Over Time, We Are Brothers
by TolkienScribe
Summary: Friendship that is built strongly and steadily is the one that endures time. The story of brotherhood between Legolas and Eomer. Not romance. Part of the Green Leaves Universe. Please read and review. :)
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**Disclaimer: **Do not own in LOTR. All OCs belong to me.

**Warning: **Rate T merely for safety.

**Dedicated to: **Rangergilan, for all the help and the encouragement to return to this story. :)

This is NOT romance. Kindly respect this viewpoint.

All of my LOTR/Silmarillion stories are interconnected but you do not need to read all to understand one another.

Flames not appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Enjoy!

Details are below.

**Do not forget to review! :)**

**~S~**

_Legolas, my dear friend,_

_How are things with you of late? I hope it fares well in your forest of Eryn Lasgelen. The War was hard won and your people deserve the peace and comfort of this Age after nearly two Ages at the edge of darkness. Do send your father the King my regards and my offers of aid if any are needed and I will see if I can spare some._

_Your joy is well founded in your forest that is growing greener, unhindered from the darkness that dwelled once in Dol Guldur, but I could not shake my mood of late. There are things that weigh heavily on my mind and often steal my sleep. I have heard rumors, my friend. These rumors did not sit well with me and as trustworthy as my advisors are, I felt as if I can only share them with someone I long knew and since Elrohir and Elladan are nowhere to be found, I turn now to you. In fact, these rumors are the very reason that I write in the Elven Tongue, and in my own handwriting._

_I hear whispers around the court that all is not well in Rohan. There is no War and what orcs are there are now scattered and confused and not an eminent threat. But it seems as if the structure of Rohan itself is crumbling. I hear that Éomer Éomundsson is not himself, and he cares not for his people and that he refuses to greet guests, which are in fact my envoys to him. It worries me, for I do not know if he does this out of grief for his uncle and the other fallen or he is intimidated by his new position. His kingdom had not been faring well when we had come to Rohan and I am at a loss of what to do. My own new position keeps me from acting as a friend, because I am the King of another country and the Rohirrim are proud folk who will not take aid unless absolutely necessary and even that at the consent of the King, but the King will not speak to my men that I have sent to him._

_I was worried enough to speak to Lady Éowyn. Rumors around court always bode ill for those the rumors are being spread about. She had written to her brother, who did not write to her back. She sent her own men to him but they returned without bearing any word. He is alive and well, as much I could tell by my men's reports but the rest is unknown. There is only so much one can find out in discretion._

_I finally turn myself towards you. It saddens me to think that I am burdening you with my troubles but I feel as if I cannot speak to another about this and while Arwen is capable of listening to me and keeping secrets, she is without power in this situation. Perhaps you hold a more suitable response for all of this? I know you were not particularly close to Éomer and it had been a cordial relationship bordering on just acquaintance, but you may be able to do something that I cannot. As for Lady Éowyn, she leaves in a week to Edoras, to visit her brother and see if she could find a way to dispel these rumors._

_But enough on such heavy matters! The War is won and the Enemy has been defeated. And while there are kingdoms to be reigned over and things to do, there is a time to be merry. Tell me, how does DorIán fare? Has he recovered from his time in Dol Guldur? I would imagine the relief of King Thranduil at the thought of no enemies lurking at his borders, even though I suspect there are some still hiding in his forest._

_I miss you, my friend, and I hope for your return so. Perhaps we will find a place for you to stay here? I am sure there is a place for a bowl of food and another for water and a thick blanket by the fire. Ah, I suspect you glare now with a mixture of annoyance and humor. Very well, I will make sure there is a set of rooms waiting for you. Perhaps that will change your mind to visit us sooner rather than later, if the good King lets you out of his sight, that is. He loves his son dearly._

_My best regards to your father and the elders. _

_Until later,_

_Estel._

oOo

To,

Legolas Greenleaf,

Son of King Thranduil,

Prince of Eryn Lasgelen.

My Lord,

I hope this letter finds you faring better in the woods that you so love and spoke so fondly about to me when you had come to Edoras. I regret to disturb your time with your people when I know that it is a time you deserve after all that you had accomplished alongside our armies but these matters had come to my attention and it was suggested to turn to you.

My King, the High King Elessar may have told you about the rumors that were circling in the Gondorian Court. To see Rohan look so weak in the eyes of another did not bode well for the Rohirrim, and it had worried me a great deal to see the kingdom I love to fall so low. But a part of me hoped that these were just rumors. This occurred two months ago and once the passages cleared enough snow for them to open did I send my men. But they returned with no answer or word of comfort from my brother. I could not shake off this feeling and I left for Edoras. It has been almost a month here, and I am at a loss as to what to do. I had spoken of my fears to the King and Queen before leaving Gondor, and they suggested that you may be of some help in this time if I believed it necessary. Queen Arwen warned me that you may not be able to help but I ask it of you nevertheless. You knew my brother during the War, and I know that War changes the people who experienced it. Perhaps a word from you may be able to help more than us.

I dare not say more, for letters can be diverted or stolen and I do not wish to reveal more that I already did.

I wait for your answer.

From,

Lady Éowyn of Rohan,

Daughter of Marshal Éomund,

Lady of Ithilien.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Ahem.

*hears older readers screaming*

Pipe down! :D

Yeah, yeah, I know what I said before. Yes, I still feel like I am dipping my feet in hot lava. I had no intentions to returning to writing this again but a push from one special reader both in encouragement and materialistically finally made me put my fingers to the keyboard.

For those who do not know. My account had been hacked some months back and all my stories were deleted. I recovered what I could but multi-chaptered stories had been deleted individually chapters. This story was a forty chaptered story scoring over 300 reviews and some 50-70ish followers and even greater favs but I could not recover it. With my muse dying and feeling defeated, I refused to rewrite this. But one certain person finally persuaded me to get back to it. _So if you have anyone to thank, thank Rangergilan (Karleigh) for her help. :) She had saved 14 something chapters which she emailed me and I am editing them now for a final touch before publishing them here._

This is my final writing of OTWAB, detailed, lengthened and smoothing over the cracks.

**Please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

This chapter currently has error of italics which I cannot seem to remove. I am currently fixing the issue. Apologies for the inconvenience.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Set in the second year after the War of the Ring._

_Somewhere in the forest._

_Eryn Lasgelen._

_The forest was silent, save for the sounds of the leaves rustling in the wind or the occasional sounds of animal chatter. But on the forest bed, large heavy bodies bumped and grated against the ground, the sounds of spider legs clicking against the fallen branches almost inaudible. The spiders moved silently, as was their wont._

_Had they looked up, they might have noticed a small part of green cloth peeking from the thick branches of the trees._

_An arrow came out of nowhere, catching the leading spider in its head. The body fell flat on the crowd with a dull thud. The other spiders hissed and looked up for their attacker, but it was too late. A volley of arrows rained down on them, and their end was swift._

_A hooded archer dropped to the ground from one of the trees and pulled back his hood. Other archers also descended from their trees._

_"That was quick," __the first one said cheerfully, pulling back his hood and letting his black hair loose. One dropped to one knee to study their fallen prey. __"You shouldn't have let the first arrow fly to quickly though," __he continued, addressing the kneeling archer. __"They might have seen you, Legolas."_

_Legolas pulled back his hood and freed his fair hair, casting a sarcastic look at his black-haired friend. __"As if you are careful all the time during our patrols, Dorián." __He retorted. Dorián grinned, knowing full well how much he got himself into trouble._

_"Oh, come now." __Dorián protested. __"I am a little bit responsible. Am I not, Fion?"_

_The addressed elf dropped down beside Dorián, followed by a few other elves behind him. Pulling his hood to reveal tumbling black locks pulled into braids and stern features, the elf walked up to Legolas and cuffed him hard around his ears. Legolas yelped._

_"What was that for?" __He complained, rubbing his ears._

_"What for?" __Fion repeated. __"You idiot. If I had not told you a single time, I told you multiple times to never be too hasty and be careful while working in stealth! You could have been killed had it been a higher opponent!"_

_"Oh they were just spiders, Fion!"_

_"And that is the attitude that will get you killed someday." __Fion muttered under his breath._

_"What Fion means is that he is hungry." __Dorián piped up, earning Fion's glare and being absolutely unaffected by it. Fion growled low in his throat. Dorián threw him a puzzled glance and cupped one ear. __"I think I hear your stomach growling, Fion. Come on, everyone, let us go back and see what we have to eat!"_

_There was a burst of soft laughter behind Fion that was quickly stifled. Frowning, Fion turned and fixed the elves with a glare, one of whom smiled apologetically._

_"Forgive me, something was stuck in my throat."_

_"We know what it is." __Dorián and Legolas chorused over their shoulders. __"It is called laughter."_

_This time, the elves laughed freely._

_oOo_

_Legolas got out of the bathing chamber, lacing his tunic and finishing it with a tie. His rooms were well-decorated with tapestries, slightly cluttered with stacks of books placed haphazardly on desks, parchments littering the side tables with the couches, everything cast in fiery glow from the lanterns. He ran a comb through his hair while standing in front of a looking-glass before setting it down. Quickly braiding his hair, his eyes glanced towards his table and frowned. It had nearly been a month since Aragorn and then Éowyn's letters arrived. He had sent no reply yet, not knowing what to say. Finishing his braids, he went over to his desk, picking up Aragorn's letter and walking to his balcony as he read. The balcony faced inwards towards the Halls, the sight of multiple bridges connecting many levels together with hanging lanterns lighting the city under mountain cast off a beautiful picture. He closed the letter, tapping it slightly on the palm of his other hand as he thought._

_He jumped when he felt arms encircle around his neck and tighten, almost strangling him._

_"Dorián!"_

_"Did you miss me?" __Dorián drawled._

_"Sometimes I wish you were back in the healing ward unconscious where you will not be so- Ack!" __Legolas gasped when his friend's arms tightened more._

_"You cannot mean that!"_

_"I… do… Let… go."_

_"Free yourself then."_

_Legolas fought the urge to roll his eyes. He pushed back, making Dorián stumble in surprise. He kept pushing, till his friend lost his balance, and they both went crashing backwards. Dorián took in a sharp inhale of breath as Legolas landed right on top of him._

_"Legolas, you oaf, get off of me! You are heavy!"_

_"As if you are not,"__ Legolas retorted. "__Yield."_

_"Will not."_

_"Amuse me and fight back then."_

_There was a moment of silence and then Dorián let out a war cry. He encircled his arms around Legolas, wrestling for control before finally kicking his shins and rolling over so that he was on top. Legolas punched his chest and grabbed his collar, making him lurch forward and he moved out of the way to let Dorián fall on to the hard floor. Dorián was not too winded, since he grabbed Legolas and promptly sat on Legolas' chest, pinning his hands down with his arms, his weight making it difficult for Legolas to breathe._

_"Yield."_

_"Will not." __Legolas replied. Dorián raised an eyebrow and pressed down harder._

_"Ai! Fine, you big lug. I yield. Not get off!" __Dorián grinned and slid off, sitting beside him. Legolas took in blessed gulps of air._

_"Almost an Age and a half__," Legolas said, finally catching his breath. __"That is how old we both are. We should be trying to act like our age and not as Ranger apprentices!"_

_"Think how dreary these Halls would be if we did act our age."__ Dorián replied, opening his eyes. The pair made eye contact and burst out laughing._

_"Father would be quite thankful though."__ Legolas said in between his chuckles._

_"Which reminds me, your father is calling you down to his throne room."__ Dorián said._

_"What was the strangulation for then?"_

_"It was a hug."_

_"It was a murder attempt."_

_"It was brotherly love."__ Dorián insisted._

_"It was a brotherly attempt of murder."__ Legolas replied._

_"Tut, tut. Royalty are always so suspicious."__ Dorián gave a sniff worthy to belong to an elleth. Legolas spotted the letter lying forgotten some distance away from, dropped when they had wrestled. He got up and bent to pick it up._

_"What is it in that letter, anyway? Every time you enter, you scowl at it as if it were a rotting fish."_

_"It is a letter from Aragorn."_

_"Is everything well? Is Evenstar alright? We could be of service-"_

_"Arwen is fine," __Legolas interrupted. __"It is another friend who needs help and Aragorn is asking if I would be willing to provide it."_

_"Oh," __Dorián said, frowning. __"Well, in that case, it depends, does it not? Are you not willing to help a friend?"_

_"He and I are not exactly friends."_

_"What did you do? Pull his cloak over his head and hammered his helmet while he was wearing it."_

_Legolas imagined the scene of Éomer and snorted._

_"Such little trust in your prince… nay, it was more like a difference of opinion which we never reconciled and had nearly come to blows for it."_

_"Well, I never thought you were someone so easily giving to temper." __Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose._

_"I was tired."_

_"And I never thought you would admit something like that." __Dorián said before frowning. __"It depends on how important this is and if you are willing enough to risk your wounded pride for it."_

_"Don't. You sound much older than I when you start giving me advice." __Legolas said, attempting to change the topic and bring some lightness to their conversation. He had no wish to speak on this just yet._

_"Fine. Now, come on and straighten your clothes. You wouldn't want to go to court looking like that. What a disappointment it would be to your father to see you ruin your clothes."_

_"Me ruin my clothes! You were the one who attacked me!"_

_"Pff. All lies."_

_With that Dorián got out of the room, whistling as he placed both thumbs of his hands into his belt._

_oOo_

_He furrowed his forehead briefly as he felt a presence try to slip pass his mental defenses undetected. Then his face broke into a smile of barely contained amusement. Immediately, he pressed down on the presence with his willpower and kicked it out of his mind. Knowing full well who it was, he turned to his father, who had taken a sudden interest into already signed documents on his table._

_"You have an uncanny ability to find what you desire, father."_ Legolas commented wryly, his eyes twinkling in merriment. Thranduil smirked. Reclining in his chair, the Elven King placed his long legs on his desk and folded his hands one over the other. He looked up, smiling at his son.

_"The ability has benefits, boy. You should try to use them."_ Thranduil replied. Legolas snorted and walked over to his father's desk. Leaning against the edge, the elf folded his hands and gave his father a merry look.

The two elves stared at one another, wondering which one would dissolve to laughter first. Father and son shared a startling resemblance. They were both tall and fair-haired. They both had the same mischievous smile that alerted other to keep them away from anything used as jests. But certain differences still kept them apart. Legolas was a little shorter than his father, and not as muscular and broad-shouldered. There was an open air of mischief around Legolas, while Thranduil possessed an unconscious cloak of power that he wore like a mantle. Legolas' smile was broad and welcoming, if not humorous, but Thranduil's smile was more fatherly, and kind. Legolas' eyes were bright blue and Thranduil's were misty grey, as if he possessed memories that were shrouded and unseen.

_"I know the benefits of this ability father, but I have moralities! I do not, for one, try to seep into other people's mind to see what they are hiding!" _Legolas chided.

_"I must. I worry about you!"_ The king replied innocently, carefully ignoring the circulating chuckles of the audience in the room.

_"I thank you for your fatherly concern."_ Legolas replied with sarcasm. Chuckles turned to laughter as the advisors and guards enjoyed the verbal duel between their beloved royals. Father and son shared a grin. Such light banter had always been expected between the two royals, and even welcomed.

The War of the Ring was over. The Dark Lord Sauron was destroyed, and the free peoples were safe once more. The elves of Mirkwood fought for the freedom of their own homelands, in darkness and in doubt, doubled with the constant fear for the life of their impulsive and joyous prince. When the War ended, the elves awaited news of the Prince in growing anxiety, but when the Mirkwood Rangers brought news of their prince riding into the forest, and singing, the elves had breathed a sigh of relief. As for their King Thranduil, he was overjoyed at his son's return.

_"I thought you were lost to us. The darkness was just so strong…"_ Thranduil had murmured as pulled his son into an embrace, weapons and all.

_"The darkness has passed. You need not have worried."_ Legolas had murmured in reply, nuzzling his head deeper into his father's cloak, enjoying the warmth and the security. Back then, he could not help adding, "_Besides, you need someone to ruin your day, no?"_

Needless to say, Thranduil had threatened to make the Crown Prince scrub the kitchens for his cheek.

Once everything had settled down, Thranduil had delighted himself in pestering his son into telling him of his adventures (or misadventures, as the King privately called them). Sensing his father's intent, Legolas replied in short, vague explanation that virtually told Thranduil of nothing. The evasive tactics went on for two hours until finally, annoyed and perplexed, Thranduil resolved into mentally probing his son's minds for the answers he sought. But Legolas was personally trained by his father, and in no time he had promptly escorted and unceremoniously thrown his father out of his mind. And so the banter continued up to this point.

_"As I had said; you have an uncanny ability of finding what you desire."_ Legolas said. There was a hint of a challenge in the younger elf's voice, which Thranduil would gladly accept.

_"You dare challenge me, boy? Well, let the games begin!"_

Advisors and guards, having nothing better to do now that the War was over, looked on eagerly. Legolas cleared his mind for the onslaught, ignoring the cheers and shouts of encouragement.

They were just about to throw themselves into a mental duel when the doors of the throne room burst open and a battalion of Mirkwood Rangers marched in. Thranduil swung his legs off his desk and made his way to the middle of the room. The Rangers came to stand in front of him.

_"What brings the entire battalion of Rangers from East Mirkwood into my throne room?"_ Thranduil demanded. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched with approval as his son immediately become grave for the matters at hand.

_"Forgive us, Sire."_ The leader spoke up. _"A group of men entered the forest. We told them to return but they would not do so. We had asked them to put down their arms but they refused. A fight followed. No one was hurt," _the leader added hastily, feeling Legolas' death glare upon him. _"But there are few cuts and bruises. We have brought them here, just outside the city. They were asking for the Prince."_

_"Did you entertain the thought that they must be some form of emissary?"_ Legolas asked his voice dangerously quiet. The leader winced and bowed.

_"Forgive me, my lord. We have lived for far too long in shadow and doubt that it is hard to trust any outsiders."_ But Legolas waved the comment away.

_"No matter, let us go and see what they wanted, shall we?" _Legolas turned and made for the doors, his hands clasped behind his back. For a moment, Thranduil admired his son's quick forgiveness and was about to comment so when he noticed a glint in his son's eyes_. Blast_, Thranduil thought fleetingly, _he is not going to-he is!_

_"And the next time such an incident occurs, my friend, try not bringing the entire force of Southern Mirkwood into the throne room. It gets to stifling and hot in here. Shall we?"_

The abashed leader ducked his head and followed the prince outside, the Rangers close behind. The doors of the throne room closed behind them and Thranduil came over his surprise and laughed fondly.

_"That is why my son is very dear to me!"_

oOo

_"Here we are,"_ the leader commented as they reached the prisoners in the outskirts of the city. Legolas took one look of them and inwardly groaned. The men were dark-haired and fair-complexioned, marking all of them as Gondorians. What made him more sheepish on the behalf of his soldiers was the insignia of the White Tree on their green cloaks, which represented the Ithilien Rangers.

Legolas asked warily in Westron, "Are you Faramir's men?"

One of them, who seemed to be the leader, answered, "Aye, are you Legolas Greenleaf?"

"Aye," the elf confirmed. The man suddenly smiled and held up his tied hands. "Would you be so kind in releasing us? I have a message to deliver which could not be done in this- ah, position."

Legolas nodded and gestured at one of the guards to free the men. The prince made a mental note to send a word of apology to Aragorn and Faramir for the manhandling of their men. Once they were free, the leader got up and rubbed his chaffed wrists. Legolas gestured the man to walk with him, and the Gondorian complied.

Some distance ahead, the elf stopped. "Is Gondor under attack?" Legolas asked, worriedly. The man shook his head.

"Nay," the man responded. "I have a letter to deliver." The man produced a letter from underneath his cloak. " 'Tis from King Elessar. He said that perhaps you may be able to make him see reason."

"Make who see reason?" Legolas asked, surprised. The man smiled grimly, "I asked him the same but he said that the letter would explain."

Puzzled, the elf took the letter. What could be so important? Legolas wondered. Turning the envelope over, he saw the royal seal. His worry increased. But the writing was undoubtedly Aragorn's, which meant it was not official in one sense.

Breaking the seal, the elf pulled out the paper and ran over the contents. It was written in Sindarin to keep a level of secrecy. He started to read in a much slower pace.

_My friend,_

_This is the second time that I have written to you, my friend. Much has passed since this letter and the first one that I had sent to you. I do hope that this finds you in good health and good security but you will forgive the abruptness in my writing once you know the cause._

_I spoke to you earlier of Éomer. It seems that there is not yet any improvement. Lady Éowyn currently dwells in Rohan and she had informed me that the King spends no more time in State Councils, leaving it to his advisors to handle, something that you and I both know will only harm a country._

_I cannot leave my kingdom, and Éomer will not entertain a Gondorian messenger, that I am sure of. But perhaps help from a person whom he had fought alongside and knew better than a stranger will help._

_I have written to you once before, and I know that you will not reduce me to begging. So therefore I ask you to consider this offer and ride to Rohan and see what aid you can bring. Anything I can help, I will do._

_Regards,_

_Aragorn._

Legolas slowly folded the paper. His heart was heavy with sorrow. He had never been in step with Éomer because of their first meeting had left them in a stiff and awkward state. Legolas had not forgotten and Éomer had not forgiven. Despite their conflicts, the elf had admittedly felt saddened to see the young man, who had never dreamt of possessing the crown, become royalty upon the battlefield. He had at first, thought that Éomer would come to terms with his grief once his attention turned to Rohan's needs. But it seemed as if that the man had not overcome the pain of his losses. And Rohan suffers with its king.

It was one of the most predictable ways of a kingdom to fall. Legolas has seen it happen. A king wallowing in his grief would not look after its own kingdom. The lands will consequently fall into conceited, tyrannical fools who would reduce the people into nothing. There would be havoc and disaster everywhere. And if at that moment, an outside force would attack… Legolas closed his eyes. The kingdom would fall before the king could even save it.

Rohan was already weak and weakening. It seems from the way Aragorn had written the letter. But there was something else. Éomer had never been the man to be easily defeated. He was fierce but to succumb to grief… but then again grief always worked in strange ways. Some wish for revenge, others simply waste away their life and still others…

And then there was something else. Legolas' brow furrowed. The letter was vague, but it was understandably so. Such a letter, if intercepted would have informed any intruder of a weakened kingdom and hence Rohan would have been in havoc with intruders and unfriendly eyes. Aragorn was wise to write in Sindarin, and he was wise to discuss the details of the kingdom vaguely. What was more; Lady Éowyn may not have told Aragorn everything about Rohan. Éomer and Aragorn may be friends, but the ground reality was that they were kings and it would not do to share all the weaknesses of one kingdom with the other, much stronger one. That is one wise woman, Legolas thought grimly, and a brave one, too. What Éomer's reaction would be to this finely woven plan was one Legolas would prefer watching from a distance.

Yet this was not going to be an easy task. Like most elves, Legolas had always hesitated in giving advice. It is the most powerful thing to give, and it can either bring other to ruin or to benefit. And friends always ask for advice the most. _I hate being a friend, if anyone can take my meaning,_ Legolas thought miserably.

Decision made, Legolas looked around, trying to find someone to run his errands. He spotted a palace guard hovering nearby.

_"Go back to the palace and prepare food and supplies for my travel. I will be leaving shortly."_ Legolas said once he called the guard over.

_"If it pleases you, my lord, you will be telling your father for your departure, not I."_ The guard replied uneasily. He had no wish to be caught in between two powerful rocks like a helpless insect.

_"Do not worry. I will handle my father."_ Legolas said, laughing slightly. No one wanted to tell the King that his beloved son was leaving once again.

Turning back to the group of men who were now enjoying food and drinks, Legolas said to the leader, "I will be leaving tonight. There is something I must do. You may rest here till you are ready to travel." But the other man shook his head.

"Much as we are flattered by… elven hospitality," the elves who understood the gentle jibe, grinned sheepishly. "My men and I will travel with you, if it is all the same. We long to return to our woods."

Legolas nodded. "Very well, but my errands lie in Rohan. I will accompany you to the border of Gondor and from there, we will part ways."

"It shall be so."

"Be ready by nightfall, then." Legolas turned to go but halted when he suddenly remembered something.

"Forgive me, my friend, but I seem to be at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I do not know yours."

"Alfred, Sire. I am Lord Faramir's second-in-command." The man replied. Legolas winced inwardly. Yes, he should send an apology to Aragorn and Faramir.

"I will leave you to refresh yourselves."

_"And do not forget to bring them into the city."_ Legolas added to the elves nearby as he walked past them. The elves laughed merrily.

_"They are certainly not trees, Commander!"_ One of them cried, laughter in his voice. _"Ai! I doubt we would forget flesh and blood."_

_"Well, considering that you had forgotten to treat emissaries with hospitality, who was to know?"_ Legolas demanded.

_"We did treat them with hospitality."_ Another ranger protested. The ranger paused for effect before adding. _"Just not the right kind of 'hospitality'."_

Laughter rippled through the elves. Legolas shook his head and turned away. As he walked to the palace, he grinned with growing amusement as he wondered exactly what his father would say to his departure.

It would be a… refreshing experience.

oOo

_"Are you mad?"_ Thranduil demanded as he looked upon his son, garbed and armed for travel.

Legolas looked up at his father's glowering form and despite all that he had gone through in the War of the Ring, the sight still intimidated him. Talking to the Elven King into letting his son go into the Wild was as difficult as convincing a hobbit to give up his share of food. Legolas chuckled at the comparison.

_"Do not make light of this, boy!"_ Thranduil snarled_. "Scarcely have you been returned to us and now you are off to one of your wild adventures!"_

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the advisors glancing at each other worriedly. Legolas gave an inward sigh. He truly loved his people, but really, he could take care of himself.

_"Father, I must go. There are some things that I must look into."_ Legolas said. And some certain thick-headed king to knock some sense into, Legolas added silently.

_"You are forsaking you own kingdom for the sake of another!"_

_"I am not forsaking anyone, father. I must go; my friends are need of help."_

Thranduil sighed wearily and sank into his throne. _"You would go even if I do not give you the permission, would you not?"_ The King asked, not really expecting an answer. _"Go! But at least I can force some guards on you for an escort."_

_"But father-"_ Legolas protested. He hated travelling with an escort.

_"Do you want my permission or no? If not, I can throw you into the dungeons until you see clearer. Choose wisely!"_

_"I will do as you wish."_ Legolas said meekly.

_"Good."_

oOo

Thranduil had managed to call up a band of twelve Mirkwood Rangers to accompany Legolas, with Legolas himself being the thirteenth. Much to the younger elf's amusement, Thranduil purposely picked elves that were resilient against their prince's charms.

_"I am beginning to think you do not trust me, father."_ Legolas said laughingly when he saw the leader of the group was Fion. Fion, broad-shouldered and dark-haired, had taught Legolas hunting and tracking. He was a no-nonsense elf who had also more than once kept a firm hand on Legolas' mischievous ways.

_"I don't."_ Thranduil replied frankly_. "But you had better be grateful. It could have been worse."_

_"It really could have been worse."_ Dorián, Legolas' best friend, warned. The prince smiled.

_"Aye, it could have been."_ Legolas said. Alfred walked over.

"My men and I are ready." The man said.

"So are we." Legolas confirmed. Turning around, Legolas raised his voice and shouted, _"Mount up! We ride!"_

The Mirkwood rangers mounted their steeds, and Legolas turned about to see tears in the King's eyes.

_"Oh, father."_ Legolas murmured, pulling his father into an embrace_. "I will return, do not worry."_

_"You do not know what it is like to hold your child after darkness until you have your own, Legolas."_ Thranduil murmured. _"And yet, here I stand, bidding my son farewell when he should be beside me."_

_"I will return and soon I will be causing your life a more miserable turn like always." _Legolas said, smiling as he pulled away. The Prince had the audacity to wink at his father. Thranduil was surprised into a laugh.

_"Come back when the seasons change, boy!" _Thranduil said.

Legolas mounted. Reeling his horse towards the gates, Legolas cried, _"Form up! Ride out!"_

Thranduil stood alone, watching his son lead the company out of the City. There was a murmur of approval through his people. Legolas was well-loved, and despite their concern over his welfare, they respected his choice to leave when he wanted. Thranduil closed his eyes and smiled.

_Yes, he loved his son indeed._

* * *

**Guest replies:**

Smiley- haha, I am glad.

emi- It has been a long time since you last reviewed but oh well. I am glad and I will always love coffee. :D I miss your rambling a lot. :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They had ridden throughout the night, with galaxies of stars above them serving as their light. They must have presented a queer sight, Legolas thought with a grin as he rode harder. Thirteen elves and eleven men riding in earnest through the night, Legolas thought fleetingly, what a sight.

"It is strange to ride in the night when it is usually used for sleeping." Alfred had called, bringing his horse beside the prince's.

"We love the night more, for it provides both beauty and light. I am sorry," Legolas had said belatedly. "I had not realized that you may not be used to our ways."

But the second-in-command would not hear of it. "It is not a trouble for my men." Alfred had replied at once. "We will ride and we will ride swift." And the matter was at rest.

They had ridden through the night with only three brief stops to stretch their legs. It was a steady gallop, and the horses had strained for more, but none of the riders allowed them. Legolas saw no sense in running down the horses when there was no apparent urgency.

It was roughly an hour before dawn when Legolas called for a stop. The horses were tired, and the travellers soon set up in putting the horses more comfortable. The men were tired, Legolas knew, but the Ithilien Rangers were far too proud to admit it.

When the camp was set up, Legolas had arranged the Mirkwood Rangers to set up a watch. _"Do not let the men join you." _Legolas cautioned them. _"They are tired but they are proud to admit it. Make sure they rest, for we will need the strength for today's ride."_

As Legolas had predicted, the men had been a little insistent when the watch was decided, but the elves assured them that it was no problem for them. Elves, by nature, were more resilient and could take a larger amount of strength. Reluctantly, but gratefully, the men withdrew their claim and rested.

Much to the elves' amusement, the men slept deeply as soon as they laid to rest.

Looking about the campsite, Legolas saw the elves sitting at the edges, talking in low tones in their native tongue. He spotted Dorián sitting alone and walked over to him, where he sat, watching the sunrise.

_"It will be a beautiful morning." _Dorián said softly, not looking up to see the prince. Legolas smiled and sat down beside him. Legolas smiled at sat beside him.

_"Yet another reason for our victory in the War."_

_"Does the War trouble you?" _Dorián asked.

_"Only the cost at which it was bought."_

This time Dorián turned to regard his friend. _"You speak of the Rohirric King and his people." _It was not a question. Legolas nodded. Before they had left the Elven City, he had already told Dorián everything about Aragorn's letter.

_"I do not understand. What should I do there? I have not the slightest hint of the goings in Rohan. How will I advise her King?"_

_"It is not like you haven't served as a counselor and as an advisor before. You had taken on that duty when your father was newly made king."_

_"Advising a father who is a king is much easier than advisor a king who is nearly a stranger. Also the kingdoms are completely different. Eryn Lasgelen was my home, I knew what the customs were, and I cannot say the same for Rohan."_

Dorián thought it over before replying slowly. _"Truth be told, I find Aragorn's words too vague. It may be that the situation in Rohan may be quite different. What I believe is that you should wait until we have reached the Golden Hall. A situation can only be remedied when it is observed completely. I hope that makes sense." _Dorián finished awkwardly.

_"No, it makes perfect sense." _Legolas said, nodding slowly. _"You have become wise, my friend."_

Dorián polished his fingernails on his tunic, _"Thank you. I believe I have."_

_"Perhaps, but I can still beat you in archery." _Legolas said, smiling.

Legolas crawled away, laughing when Dorián threw a hunting knife at him. _"Careful!" _Legolas said. _"Are you trying to kill your prince?"_

_"I admit it has become rather tempting." _Dorián replied, grinning as he retrieved his knife.

Legolas was about to tease when a water skin dropped on the grass in front of him. Looking up, he gulped when he saw Fion towering over him.

_"If you are done making a nuisance of yourself with another who is supposed to be on sentinel duty," __Dorián hastily looked away as Fion shot him a severe look,__" you might make yourself useful by helping me refill our water supply." _Fion said. _"And try not to blunder about creating havoc while you are at it." _Fion added, turning on his heel and expecting the prince to follow. Legolas sheepishly grabbed the wine skin. Dorián gave him a sympathetic glance and Legolas hurried to follow his former mentor.

He followed the veteran to a nearby stream. Legolas knelt by the bank and dipped his hand in. the water was refreshingly cold. Legolas cupped his hand and brought the water to his lips, enjoying the taste.

_"Do not drink before the others." _Fion murmured softly, indicating the water skins. Legolas smiled before replying, _"Of course. I apologize."_

It was the same thing as it was when he was studying with Fion. Every day there was a new lesson and every day he had learnt something better. Legolas had enjoyed his apprenticeship, even if Fion was a little grim.

_"Why do you smile?"_ Legolas jerked back to the presence, where Fion regarded him curiously.

_"I was only remembering my apprenticeship, mentor. It was a good time."_

_"Really," _Fion asked dryly. _"Well I certainly seem to recall enjoying myself when I made you clean the stables, and wash my dishes and sweep my floor and-"_

_"I get the point." _Legolas interrupted, grinning. Those chores were something the prince had been relieved of leaving.

_"And use you as my target practice whenever you made a mistake in stealth and concealment." _Fion finished.

Legolas winced. He remembered that well. He had always been sloppy when it came to stealth. Finally frustrated beyond the point of no return, Fion sought to cure his habits by shooting an arrow at the younger elf whenever some fault was found in his stealth abilities.

_"The practice certainly worked," _Legolas admitted. He was surprised to hear Fion's low chuckle. _"It certainly did. What were you speaking to Dorián about?"_ The change in subject surprised Legolas. The prince frowned as he answered, _"Oh, he was advising me on what was the best course to take once we meet the King."_

_"And of course, Dorián is so old that he can give advice, now can he?" _Fion commented in criticism. _"Why, he is younger than you!" _Then Fion turned a sharp eye towards the elf. _"Make sure you do not create mischief in the horse lord's lands."_

_"Such little trust in your prince…" _Legolas drawled before he crept away.

Fion watched unblinkingly as his former apprentice made his way back to the camp. Legolas was the same as ever. The younger elf was impulsive, with a hint of mischief and a smile toying around his lips. Despite what many believed, Legolas was fiercely loyal and more than a little experienced when it came to campaigning and war. And yet, the veteran had noticed something else in his former apprentice. It seemed as if the prince looked more… haunted. As if he was waiting for a call.

_Sea-longing,_ Fion thought fleetingly before shaking his head. _"What troubles have you gotten yourself into, boy?" _Fion asked no one in particular. Gathering the water skins in his hands, the veteran walked back to the camp.

The men woke up after six hours of refreshing sleep. Once they did awaken, they insisted on preparing the food and dismantling the campsite. With defeated smiles, the elves withdrew and let the men do it. The Mirkwood Rangers approved of course. Nothing was more terrible and tedious than travelling with companions who would not do their due share.

Once they had eaten and taken care of their camp, they remounted and set to travel again. This time, Legolas kept a more considerable pace, allowing the horses to reserve their energy for the last run of the journey.

It was a casual ride in the afternoon of the second day. Legolas leaned back on his horse, enjoying the steady change in the scenery. Dorián nudged him, gaining his attention. _"Look," _He murmured, indicating with his head behind him. _"Were it not for our uniforms, we may have been brethren of the same forest."_

Legolas turned to look. Behind him were the elves and men, mingling with one another and sharing amusing exchanges to pass the time. The Mirkwood Rangers wore clothes of darkest brown and a green so deep that it was almost black. It did not serve in camouflage in the Wild, where the green was much lighter, but in Mirkwood, the color was perfect. As was the standard Ranger Protocol, all the elves had longbows and knives. The Ithilien Rangers, on the other hand, wore light green and brown colors of Ithilien. They had swords at their sides and longbows slung behind their backs.

All the elves in Legolas' escort knew Westron, which made up to more chatter among the riders. The Mirkwood and Ithilien Rangers exchanged tips and advice on field craft, archery, and stealth. In other occasions, they simply recounted tales of their respective homelands.

_"Aye, we are not so different." _Legolas replied.

Legolas smiled as he heard one of the elves narrate an amusing story of how one of their comrades (who was also in the travelling party) was trapped in a spider lair.

"You should have seen him hanging upside down, with his arms clamped to his sides as if he was tied in a blanket!" The elf declared. "Mind you, I was not amused at the time." The comrade in question added. Laughter circulated through the riders as they pictured the amusing scene.

Legolas smile faded a little as he looked over towards his former mentor, who looked over his shoulder with a haunted look.

_"What is wrong?" _Legolas asked, watching his mentor look over his shoulder once more.

_"Perhaps I am simply imagining it," _Fion said slowly. _"But something is wrong. I can sense. Or perhaps, I am simply getting old."_

_"You, old?" _Legolas asked teasingly before growing more serious. _"But I would not take your words lightly. Let us be more cautious."_ They made camp sometime later, and keeping Fion's words in mind, Legolas placed four sentries on duty at any one time. The sentries shifted through the night, but there was no sign of trouble.

The air was cold in the morning. The last holds of winter were still there. Legolas strung his bow and checked to see if his knives were in place. Dropping into a crouch, the elf made his way out of the camp. He had decided to scout the area, maybe for clues for anything following them. The Dark Lord may have been defeated, but his former subjects still lurked, sometimes mounting a surprise attack at any unsuspecting people.

What was more, the elf wanted to practice his skills. To his belief, Legolas thought he had not played a great role in the War, serving only as a representative for his people. Not many knew his skills, and those who did, did not know them well.

Legolas knelt, his hand pressed on the moist soil. He enjoyed the feel. It was fascinating, to see something as dead as the earth to bring life to something as colorful and refreshing as trees and plants. _And how we depend upon the soil,_ Legolas thought.

It was the growl that took his attention.

Making sure he did not move a muscle, the elf looked at his left without turning his head. A large beast stood in a crouch, his lips pulled apart in a snarl. A warg, Legolas realized. The warg had matted brown fur, specked with gray and white. Its teeth were yellowed and dirty, obviously from its previous meal. And its eyes had pure hatred. Legolas momentarily forgot his place and said, _"You smell terrible."_

The warg was not amused and lunged.

Legolas quickly rolled to his side, sensing that the warg had landed where had had been moments ago. _I seem to have inherited my mother's humor in strange places, _Legolas thought miserably. Still crouching, he pulled up his bow. Notching an arrow onto the bowstring, the elf pulled back and let go.

The arrow hit the warg into its shoulder but it only screamed its pain and rage and charged. Knowing that his bow would be useless at close quarters, Legolas let it go and pulled out his knife.

Pain. It shot through his thigh as the warg clawed into his leg. Legolas drew in a sharp breath. Taking the opportunity of the closeness, Legolas stabbed the warg repeatedly.

_"Legolas!" _It was Fion. The veteran stood at a distance, the other elves kneeling as they pulled back their bows. A volley of arrows embedded itself into the warg. It roared in pain, but none of them were fatal wounds, the tangled fur being a protection. It was Alfred who led the charge of men, a naked sword in hand. With a cry, the second-in-command beheaded the warg.

Legolas pulled back with a grateful sigh. He vaguely heard the elves coming near.

_"Fool!" _Fion roared, dropping down on one knee as he scolded the Prince. _"What, in the confounded ends of the world, were you thinking? I had told you before my suspicions. It was foolish to go blundering about and creating a racket for that warg!"_

_"I only meant to practice my tracking and hunting skills." _Legolas explained, shifting slightly as blood welled from his wound.

_"Then you should have killed the warg in the first place!" _Came the tart reply.

Seeing his friend in pain, Dorián bent down and pressed the end of his cloak on the wound. Fion noticed the injury and shook his head. Pushing the elf roughly away, Fion snarled, _"And I will do that!"_

Dorián and Legolas exchanged glances and hid smiles. Fion, by nature, was a strict elf but much of his scolding was purely originated from fear over Legolas' welfare. So, the prince never took any of his former mentor's words to heart.

Alfred cleared his throat, making his presence known. The elves looked his away; they had forgotten he was still there. The second-in-command had schooled his face, possibly so that no one could see his amusement on how the prince was berated by another like teacher does to a naughty student.

"I see everything is in control here." He said smoothly. "I will take my leave."

"Wait," Fion interrupted. "Can you get your men to scout the surrounding area? Wargs travel in groups and it would be wise to check if there are any more nearby."

Alfred nodded his assent. Turning, the man shouted orders to the Ithilien Rangers who quickly, but silently melted away from the camp.

_"So they do know field craft." _One of the elves muttered as he handed a medical kit to Fion_._

_"Probably better than you." _Dorián quipped, bending down to hold Legolas still.

The elf who had spoken raised his hands in placatory manner and with a grin, left.

_"What I do not understand,"_ Legolas said, gritting his teeth and casting a glare at Fion. The veteran was not being gentle in his ministrations, but Fion purposely did not meet the eyes of his former apprentice. _"Is why did it attack me? I was still close to the camp and that should have been enough reason for the warg to stay away."_

_"Perhaps Legolas is too handsome for his own good." _Dorián said laughingly.

_"I knew I should have told your father to marry you off when he had the chance." _Fion muttered under his breath.

_"True, but I doubt I would have consented." _Legolas replied, hissing when Fion tightened the bandage.

_"Aye, there is that."_

Fion finished tying the bandage. _"Anyways, you had better hope this would heal before we enter Edoras. I do not think you will strike a formidable character in front of the King with an injured leg."_

A brief image flashed through Legolas' mind. He saw himself, limping up the steps of Meduseld to greet the King, announcing that he has come to help. Éomer would take one look of him and reply dryly that the rescuer would need rescuing.

The thought was so absurd that Legolas turned slightly to his side and pushed his face down as he exploded into helpless chuckles. Beside him, Fion looked annoyed. _"I tire of this," _the veteran declared, poking the elf at his side. _"Cease! Cease immediately!"_

The elves about them chuckled as well, Legolas' laughter being infectious. Just then, Alfred and his men returned. What the second-in-command thought of the scene, Fion did not dare to guess. His face schooled to be expressionless, Alfred said, "We scouted the area. There was no other wargs."

Fion frowned. "Strange," the elf murmured. "Fell beasts like the wargs always travel in groups. It makes hunting their prey much easier."

Legolas got up slowly. Dorián came forward to help but the Prince waved him away. "The defeat of the Dark Lord has made them crippled." Legolas said thoughtfully. "They will be scattered after the War, hunting for their own gains."

"And becoming ever weaker for attack." Alfred finished, understanding.

"Still," Fion said, slowly. "Let us leave immediately. I do not wish to stay around only to be food for a warg."

"Of course, we do not want to come to the end of our journey in pieces." Legolas said.

"Indeed, we do not." Fion said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. The veteran cast a meaningful glance at the Prince's bandaged leg. There was a ripple of laughter through the elves, but Alfred and his men managed to keep a straight face. Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Feeling cocky, are we not? Let us ride!"

The next few days went without any form of incident. Due to fast elven healing, Legolas' leg did not give him much problem and at the sixth day, the wound now only a dull ache. Fion had given scathing remarks over the wound, but Legolas only grinned, letting the veteran complain to his heart's content.

All elves had admitted that, the reason for the easy journey was the lack of conflict between the elves and men. Long journeys meant that tempers were short but Legolas was impressed that the rangers of both forests were able to work with an unspoken understanding.

By the end of the seventh day, they stood at the borders of Gondor and Rohan. The Mirkwood Rangers dismounted, followed by Ithilien Rangers for their farewell. In the week's travel, they had developed an odd friendship based on understanding and cooperation.

"It was a good travel," Legolas said quietly to Alfred once they had dismounted.

"It was an easy travel." Alfred corrected, smiling at the prince, who smiled in return.

"Aye, I agree." Legolas answered. He turned, seeing the elves exchange words of farewell.

"One thing," Legolas interrupted. The men looked his way in inquiry. "I apologize for our behavior when you had entered our forest. Please extend my apologies to your King and Steward."

Alfred let out a bark of laughter, and the men exchanged amused grins. "Do not worry about us." The second-in-command said, clapping the Elven Prince on his shoulder. "We are made of sterner stuff! And we have long forgotten the incident. Truly," Alfred added at the sight of disbelief on Legolas' face. "We are not offended. Had we been living in the same suspicion, we would have done the same. Ithilien had not been kind to strangers during the War." Legolas nodded, accepting the words. The matter was at rest.

"It was an enjoyable experience." Legolas heard one of the elves say. The men smiled. "Do not worry," An Ithilien Ranger replied. "Perhaps one day, our paths will cross again, and maybe someday we will show you our woods."

The elves smiled. "We will enjoy that."

Farewells were awkward business, Legolas thought as Alfred ordered the men to mount. Alfred wheeled his horse towards the border, and shouted, "We ride! To home and country!" The men answered with their own shouts. Raising his hand in farewell, which Legolas quickly copied, Alfred set his horse into a gallop, and his men following close behind.

Legolas turned about and mounted his horse, the elves following his example. They turned their horses and for a moment just stood there.

Rohan stretched out before them, a rugged land with green grass as far as the eye could see, and only the rocks and uneven terrain as ornaments. Its beauty lay in the rough texture of the land. The sun was setting, casting red glow over the land, enhancing its beauty.

Éomer, Legolas thought achingly. This country is far more important than those who had passed.

With a heavy heart that did not know what to expect, Legolas guided his escort to enter Rohan or the Riddermark as it should be known, ready to help her king.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Smiley-Thanks. I am glad they are alive too!


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A thunder of hooves echoed across the plains as Legolas and his escort galloped through Rohan. Legolas only gave short rests in between. He had been eager to push the horses, wanting to reach Edoras as quickly as possible. He had no wish to come across any unfriendly Men who wished them harm, and every passing moment felt wasted before reaching Rohan.

Sun rose as dawn broke out. Colors of pink, red and blue splashed across the sky. The birds of the plains were awakening, and small sounds of chirps broke into the silence.

_"I have said it before and I will say it again." _Dorián called over the sound of the hooves. _"It is a beautiful morning."_

_"Indeed," _another Elf replied. _"And the beauty of the sunrise is unhindered in a land like this."_

It was true. Legolas looked about as he led his horse, avoiding the sharp rocks and preferring the grass. The sun could be seen rising, its light bathing the grass in gold. The lands were different here. The cold felt different here. Back home, the cold came in sharp gusts of wind, biting and cutting. Here, the cold was not as severe.

They had stopped once the sun was fully raised. The Elves had once offered to stop by a town and buy some supplies but Legolas had refused the offer. _"Nay," _Legolas had said firmly. _"I forbid it." _He had not explained further, but Fion did it for him, much to his relief. The veteran told the Elves that they were few in number, and if any of the unfriendly kind would try to have, ah, advantage over one of them, they could do little to help. Once the Elves knew the reason, they subsided.

Legolas was starting to grow tenser as they neared Edoras. He was worried for Éomer's reaction and what he could do once he saw Rohan's situation.

_"Stop thinking about it when there is nothing that can be done!" _Fion had snapped angrily once when they had stopped for a rest. _"Continue in this fashion any longer and you just might work up a headache."_

_"He is his father's son." __One of the Elves said dryly. __"He won't stop worrying until whatever he is worrying about is finally over."_

_"I will tell father what you said about him." __Legolas told him. The Elf only shrugged._

_"Everyone says that about him."_

It was a second day in Rohan and they were only a few hours away from Edoras. Legolas was tense as a bowstring and his escort understood his mood. The Elves wisely checked their horses, leaving Fion with Legolas. The former mentor knew Legolas' moods. He understood how to start a conversation with the Prince.

_"It is strange that we have not yet met any of the soldiers." _Fion commented casually, indicating the empty plains.

_"It was not so when we first came here." _Legolas replied bitterly. _"Éomer had not wasted any time in almost beheading me."_

A hand shot out, grabbing hold of Legolas' reins and pulling them. Surprised, Legolas' horse, Arod, jerked to a stop. _"What the- Fion! Your hand could have been injured!" _Legolas cried, half-shocked at the veteran's daring move and half-angry that he had risked. Fion, on the other hand, seemed unfazed at the scolding.

His escort had not been fast enough to stop their fast-moving horses just behind them. They maneuvered the horses around the two riders. Legolas dimly heard Dorián's angered protests but his eyes were only focused on Fion.

_"Are you not too quick to judge?" _Fion asked grimly. _"Tell me, if thy father banished thee under the pain of death, renounced thee in front of all who knew thee, would thy have been more welcoming than this king when he first met thee? What of those dark times? Your father once nearly put an arrow through an ally whom he once considered an enemy. Do not be so quick to judge others. They have done what was best in those times. The past is of no concern to the present. Make sure that ye remember that! And learn to help this young king without any grudges!"_

_"But that is where my problems lie. How will I help this kingdom? I know nothing of the ways of men."_

_"Then make sure ye learn their ways!" _Fion answered briskly.

Legolas nodded several time slowly before letting a grin form. _"That is all?" _Legolas asked, his eyes glinting in mischief. _"There was a time when such scolding was accompanied by threats of spanking. I do believe that my former mentor is getting soft. Must be his old age…"_

Legolas dug his heels into his horse and shot off, his mentor following close behind. The veteran shouted threats at the fleeing prince, who neatly dodged the furious elf. Dorián and the others followed at a much slower pace, chuckling at the entertainment.

The game continued for the next few miles, and by that time they had neared the city.

The Elves, who were laughing only a few moments ago, schooled their faces to polite grimness. They were, by nature, merry folk but only in the company they were comfortable in.

Legolas slowed his horse to a steady walk as they neared the gates, his escort doing the same. The wooden gates opened, letting them enter. Legolas wondered if he would be recognized. After all, he had been wearing the grey garments of Lothlórien when he came to Edoras the last time, but now he was wearing the black and green of Mirkwood with flowing sleeves and-

"Well, I'll be! Legolas!"

_I stand corrected, _Legolas thought wryly. Looking down at his side, he recognized Éothain walking beside his horse. The burly Rider grinned at the eye contact. Reaching up, he took Legolas's reins from him and led the horse inside. Looking behind him, Legolas could see the Rohirrim doing the same for the other elves. It was a symbol of hospitality the riders showed for the elves.

They stopped in the middle of the clearing. Legolas dismounted, and his feet had barely touched the ground when Éothain swept him up in a bear hug.

"Legolas!" Éothain roared happily, thumping the slim elf on his back in the process. "It is good to see you, my friend." Legolas winced at the impact.

"Éothain," Legolas said weakly as he tried to pull away. "Truly, the strength of the Rohirrim is not exaggerated."

Éothain understood the jibe and grinned as he released the Elf. The Rider stepped away, not the least upset. Legolas straightened his tunic, which had gone askew. From the corner of his eye, he watched with amusement as Fion was subjected to the same treatment. Dorián, who had guessed what was coming, cleverly evaded any onslaught.

"Well, what are you doing here? It has been long year. Why the sudden visit?" The burly Rider narrowed his eyes at the Elf and understanding dawned on his face. "Ah, Lady Éowyn's work." Éothain muttered.

"She did what she thought was right." Legolas commented defensively.

"That she did, no doubt. But still, 'tis will not be easy. Éomer hasn't been like himself."

"How so?"

"He barely takes parts in our councils, leaving us to decide for ourselves. Of course, he rarely takes part in anything these days. Éomer spends most of his time in his rooms, drinking heavily and without restraint. We tried to speak sense to him, but it was in vain."

Legolas frowned at the news. This was much more serious than Legolas originally thought. For a well-run country it was necessary for the sovereign to take part in the affairs himself. If he does not, and lets his advisors do the work for him, there will be cracks in the government. Worse, corrupted fools would drink the country dry of its wealth and by the time there is help (if any), it would be too late.

"I must write to Lady Éowyn as soon as possible." Legolas murmured. Éothain's thick eyebrows snapped together in confusion. "Write to her? Why?"

It was Legolas' turn to look confused. "She is married to Lord Faramir, is she not? Surely she resides in Ithilien?"

"Surely not!" Éothain roared, smiling. He threw his heavy arm around the Elf's slim shoulders and pulled him towards the steps with astounding strength. "Our White Lady is here with us! Come up and meet her!"

So poor Legolas half-walked and half-stumbled as he was dragged over the stairs by Éothain. He heard Dorián chuckling behind him. _Blasted Elf, _Legolas thought fleetingly, stumbling when he lost his focus. _I will get him for this._ His mind was already making plans for revenge.

Legolas was grateful when they finally skidded to a halt on the platform. He gained his balance and straightened, his escort following in a more dignified manner. And they were not alone.

A group of ladies stood at the doors of Meduseld, two of whom held trays of cups full of drink. And one stood in front of the group of ladies.

She was fair, and tall with a proud stance. Her hair flowed freely like a sheet of gold, gleaming in the sunlight. She seemed fragile but cold, unreachable. She was dressed in green and gold, making her look more regal and powerful. Her name was Éowyn, daughter of Éomund. She had slain the Witch-King of Angmar.

And suddenly she smiled. Legolas was brought straight out of the past. He reminded himself that all of that is behind them, and Lady Éowyn was no longer cold and indifferent as she once was.

Éowyn took up a welcoming cup from a nearby lady and offered it to the Prince. "Hail, Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood." She said. Such a soft voice for one who seemed so cold.

Legolas accepted the cup. Other ladies brought forward more cups and greeted the elves.

"It is good to see thee, my lady." Legolas murmured, returning the cup.

"As it is to see thee." Lady Éowyn returned. "I trust your journey went well."

Legolas fleetingly remembered his encounter with the Warg and Fion's constant cutting remarks over his wound and smiled. "As wonderful as a morning walk, my lady."

"That is good to know. With the War finished, it would be best that the travelling roads were no longer hindered by the enemy."

"But come," Lady Éowyn said finally, her skirts whirling about her as she turned for the door. "It would not do to leave our guests at the door while we can offer food and beds for rest inside."

As if the words were a sign, the ladies that had gathered dispersed, and left for the daily chores. Only the elves and Éothain followed the White Lady into the Golden Hall.

The hall showed some definite changes. The gilded pillars gleamed as if polished. A fire burned merrily in the center. The windows on the ceilings were open, letting in the fresh air and sunlight. The Golden all was well-named.

"This place looks better than I came here last." Legolas commented, observing the tapestries that hung at the sides. The first time Legolas had come to Edoras with his companions Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf, the hall was too dark to make out the tapestries. Now, the light was more than enough, showing the fine details of the sceneries depicted on the rich cloth.

"It was time that Meduseld was restored to its former glory. There are still evidences of what we faced in the War," Éowyn added, looking disgusted. "Regardless, the hall should be renovated by coming winter."

"Some of these tapestries have become too old." Legolas said, his keen eyes quickly picking the old, faded colors and small signs of decay.

"Yes, we are working on refurbishing them." Éowyn said.

A nod towards a nearby maid sent her scurrying to prepare one of the many tables for the guests. Bowls and other cutlery were laid out for a meal.

"Are you overseeing the renovation yourself?" Legolas asked.

"Indeed," Éowyn moved to reply. "It is hard work, but we are seeing results."

Legolas heard a polite cough from Dorián, indicating the presence of the Elves behind him. Legolas hurried to say, "Let me introduce you to my escort." Indicating each Elf, Legolas introduced them to the Lady, who greeted each graciously. Fion was the last to meet her, and as the veteran stepped back, his eyes met Legolas' and an understanding passed between them. Fion had confirmed what Legolas had suspected. There was an air of contentment about the White Lady.

"It would seem that you will be expecting a new arrival in the coming winter, my lady." Legolas remarked. He noted in growing amusement when the Lady blushed. Then Éowyn held up her head in defiance and Legolas grinned. This was the shield-maiden indeed.

"My congratulations to you and Lord Faramir." Legolas continued, now softening.

"You may wish to take it easy from now on." Fion added kindly. Legolas kept his expression intact but inwardly, he smirked. The elves doted on children and soon, the Lady will come to realize, just how much.

"Unfortunately, I doubt it will be possible for me to 'take it easy'." Éowyn replied, her voice still gentle. "I am not the kind to sit idly when there is work to be done."

Éothain entered from one of the many doors opening into the hall. "I have just come from the kitchens informing them for a meal- what are those?" The Rider asked, surprised.

Legolas turned to see what the point of interest was. Two of his Elves had excused themselves and left to retrieve the hawks that had accompanied them on the journey. They had come back, with the two birds of prey settled calmly on their heavily padded arms. Unlike their brethren that lived in the mountains, these hawks had silver feathers instead of golden.

"Many strange animals reside in our forest of which these hawks are one." Legolas explained. "They intelligent, and have become our allies in times of need. They are our friends, companions in battle and when we need to gather information on our enemies."

"We will suffer no harm to our hawks." Fion added. Éothain nodded slowly, understanding the warning in the veteran's tone. Hawks were precious to the Mirkwood Rangers, as horses were to the Rohirric Riders.

"They will be well-provided for in our hall." Éowyn assured smoothly. Just then, one of the hawks glided over to Legolas and perched on his left shoulder. The hawk crooned softly as it nibbled playfully on the Prince's braid.

Éowyn hissed in surprise. "Does it not hurt?" She asked, indicating the sharp talons that sunk into the Elf's shoulder.

The Elves smiled and pulled back the collars of their shirts, showing the beginnings of a heavy padding. There was more on the left shoulder than on the right. "We teach them to sit on our left shoulders only." Legolas explained before adding, "Although, they sometimes forget." Too well Legolas did remember the excruciating pain when a forgetful hawk had sunk its claws into the wrong shoulder. It had been like sharp needles forcing their way into his flesh.

By this time, the ladies from the kitchens had brought hot food and cool drinks for the Elves. Occupying a nearby table, the Elves sat eagerly to eat. It was an excellent stew, though the spices were a bit too much for their taste. Warm bread that went with it had a hard crust and a soft center. Water went well for their dried throats.

For a while, there was only silence. Éowyn was a good host. She made sure their bowls never emptied and did not disturb their meal. Instead, she sat contently nearby, her thoughts elsewhere.

Legolas wiped the bowl clean with a small piece of bread and popped the morsel into his mouth. He pushed the bowl away as he chewed. The other elves were done as well and the servants quickly removed the dishes.

"Do you wish for more?" Éowyn asked.

"Nay!" Legolas replied. "We have eaten to our fill, I believe."

"Then let us return to the matters at hand."

"I have to say," Legolas started thoughtfully. "I had not expected to see thee here, my lady."

"What! And leave you here alone with my brother?" Éowyn said, suddenly laughing. "That would have been far too cruel of me. My brother is not the easiest person to speak to. I wanted to help where I could."

"If truth be told," Éowyn said after a short period of silence. "I had not planned to stay here after my marriage. When I spoke to King Elessar, I decided to leave once the request for your aid was sent. I came here to see what I could do, but as I said, my brother is stubborn. He did not take kindly to my aid. I was about to leave Edoras to return to my husband when I realized what you had realized." Éowyn said, absently massaging her middle. "I decided to stay and wait here, not wanting to risk travelling. I know I can, for it is still early. But I had no wish to endanger my life or the one I have."

"As for my brother. I cannot understand him. He had always been moody but his anger flares up for no reason. I had more than one fight with him, for trivial reasons."

"Well, nothing can be done unless I speak to him." Legolas commented reasonably. "But tell me; is there anything that you or the council expects of him?"

"Mainly that he should take his duties as the king." Éowyn answered. "And that he should marry."

"Nay," Legolas said, gently but firmly. "No marriage until his sober and his kingdom is stable."

"But marriage may help him recover his grief!" Éowyn protested.

"Or it may aggravate it." Legolas said, rubbing his temples. Maybe someday, he just might work up a headache as Fion had always joked about. "Grief works in strange ways, my lady. It would only add to his burden when he is barely keeping his country intact. Besides," Legolas added. "I have no wish to send the poor bride into a breaking kingdom with a," Legolas stopped. He was going to say 'a lumbering, foolish, half-drunken oaf for a husband' but realized that those words could only be used for a friend. Aragorn would certainly not mind.

"A husband who has too much on his mind already." Legolas substituted instead. There, that sounded civilized.

Éowyn tilted her head, considering the Elf's words. "I agree now that you have spoken as such." She replied slowly. "So what would you have us do?"

"I need to see Éomer." Legolas said, getting up on his feet. Éowyn got up as well.

"Éothain will take you to his chambers. But," The White Lady added. "You may not find him as you expected."

"Oh, that wouldn't be a problem, I assure you." Legolas replied smoothly.

Éowyn nodded towards Éothain, who came forward to guide the prince. Legolas turned to his companions, _"Fion, Bregon and Dorián will come with me." _Legolas said quietly. _"The rest of you should help where you can. The ladies seem to have big plans for Meduseld. It would be best to lend a hand."_

His companions nodded and got up for their respective tasks. Fion and Dorián stood by his side. Bregon, dark-haired and fair-skinned, stood by as well.

Legolas nodded towards Éothain. "Lead the way." The huge Rider gave a wide grin, and led them into the inner, more private regions of the Golden Hall.

Everywhere, there were carvings of horses and runes. The beauty of this ancient building lay in the intricate designs and the rich colors of the wall hangings and wood. Heads of horses were carved on every pillar, their eyes life-like.

Éothain led them to the door of the King's Chambers. The Rider turned to face Legolas and gave him a lopsided grin. He jerked his thumb at the door and said, "Here we are. Good luck to you."

Legolas winced. They both knew Éomer's temper. "I will need it." The Elf replied. Éothain grinned and turned to leave.

"Lady Winflead is waiting at the end of the corridor. Call her if you need anything, yes?" Éothain said over his shoulder. Legolas did not reply, as Éothain had already left.

"Well, let us get this over and done with." Legolas murmured and pushed open the door.

As soon as the door opened, an unpleasant smell greeted them. Fion hastily stepped back_. "Blast!"_ The veteran exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust_. "You had not mentioned this, Legolas!"_

Legolas had to agree. Taking a tentative step, the Elf entered the rooms cautiously, followed closely by his comrades.

The bedroom was dark, with closed windows and an extinguished fireplace. A limp figure lay against the wall. Coming close, Legolas recognized the large frame and the muscled limbs.

_"Fool!"_ Legolas hissed, stepping forward_. "What has he done to himself?"_

_"I cannot tell if he is even breathing."_ Bregon added most unhelpfully.

Dorián stepped forward, prodding the king gingerly with his foot. Much to their relief, the king grunted and turned over.

_"Drunk,"_ Dorián announced. _"He is dead drunk."_

_"That is not wise for one so young."_ Fion commented. His voice was laced with disapproval. The Elves too loved to drink but it was highly discouraged to have too much drink when there was work to be done_. "His kingdom is falling to pieces and here he is drunk! I thought you had said this man was sharp-witted, Legolas."_

He was, so what had caused such a change? Legolas wondered. He had always remembered Éomer sober. He had not taken any drinks even in the celebrations of the battle of Helm's Deep, and even in the celebrations of the ending of war on the Fields of Cormellen.

Regardless, none of his questions will be answered if the king remained drunk and unconscious at his feet. Taking a glance around the room, Legolas pondered over his next action. As Fion had said, Legolas planned as the time passed. Suddenly coming up with an idea, the elf bounded to the main door. Opening it, the Elf called, "Winflead? Winflead!"

The housekeeper appeared and Legolas flashed his most disarming smile. The lady regarded him suspiciously. "What is it, lad?"

"The king is in dire need of a bath. Would you be so kind as to put out a bath for him?"

Winflead nodded, some of her suspicion washing out of her. As she turned to leave, Legolas added, "Oh and Winflead? There is no need to heat the bath."

There was a twitch around her lips that showed she knew what he was asking, but she said, "As you wish, my lord."

When she left, Fion exclaimed, _"Boy, what do you think you are doing?"_

Legolas did not answer, but quickly rolled his sleeves back. Pulling his hair out his braids, the Elf deftly re-braided them into one braid. He was about to pull out his knives when his eyes fell on Éomer's famed sword, Gúthwinë. Legolas winced. Maybe he should keep the blades.

_"I suggest you three to do the same." _Legolas said casually.

Fion sighed as he went to work. _"When I am done with this mission, boy, I am leaving for the Undying Lands."_

_"Good, then I will be able to carry out my impulses in piece." _Legolas replied cheekily.

Fion glared at his former student. _"Just for that, I will not leave. But at the very least, open the windows!"_

_"You do realize this might get you into trouble over here." __Dorián said, looking over his shoulder at Legolas. __"I mean, what you are going to works splendidly if one of us gets drunk and we stay that way back home, but here, you won't be able to escape that easily."_

_"I do what I do best," __Legolas said. __"If Aragorn and Éowyn want my help, they will have to live with my rules."_

_"Valar help the ones Legolas have a mind of teaching them a lesson for having too much drink." __Bregon commented. _

Legolas had to agree. Soon, the curtains were pulled back and the windows were open. The air was fresh and light, and the room was no longer dark. In the adjoining chamber, Legolas could hear the preparations of a bath. Legolas caught the sight of the empty bottle of wine and curled his lip in distaste. Glancing to the other rooms, he could see the King's study and smaller rooms joined with the King's bedchamber. Catching the sight of the stack of papers on the King's desk, Legolas made a mental note to take a look of them.

Just then, Lady Winflead peered into the room, "The bath is ready, my lord."

"Thank you, my lady. We can manage."

Dorián looked at the burly king, who was still blissfully unaware of what was going to happen. _"You are not really going to bathe him, are you?" _Dorián asked dubiously.

_"Nay," _Legolas replied, laughing. _"But I do plan to give him a shock. At least, let us take his shirt off."_

They did so, and the four Elves took positions to carry the king to his awaiting bath.

_"Now, remember."_ Legolas said as he kept a firm grip on the king's shoulders. _"He has a fearsome temper-"_

_"The things you make me do as a friend." _Dorián interrupted.

_"He has a fearsome temper."_ Legolas repeated, his eyes glinting in merriment. _"So when you drop him, remember to run."_

They carried the king to the other room. The Elves kept a firm hold on the king's body as it hovered over the cold water in the bathtub.

"_Remember to run."_ Legolas repeated.

Dorián, who could make a joke out of anything, said. "_If this does not go according to plan, we will meet again in the Undying Lands."_

Fion's lips twitched in amusement. _"Aye, after all we will be dying for a just cause!"_

"_Funny,"_ Legolas mumbled. _"It is my life in line, not yours."_

_"Remember to run,"_ Dorián reminded him, his shoulders shaking in mirth.

_"Careful," _Legolas warned._ "You are losing your grip!"_

_"I am not the one who would be in trouble if I did!"_ Dorián answered.

_"You are a treacherous lot to be called friends!"_ Legolas muttered under his breath.

_"I thought you already knew?"_ Fion prodded.

_"Just drop him!" _

_"As you wish!"_ The Elves chorused and let go of their burden. The body fell into the bathtub with a splash, instantly creating a pool on the stone floor. The Elves, surprisingly obedient to their prince's command, ran out of the door, leaving Legolas alone in the room.

_If I die, I hope Aragorn lives a miserable life, _Legolas thought fleetingly, turning back to the bathtub. He dropped his hand over the knife hidden in his boot as a thoroughly wet head emerged from the surface of the water.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Thranduil's son had done many foolish things, but the Elven King will be appalled to see that his son had done the worst this time. Teasing Éomer was like teasing a lion in its den; purely foolish- and suicidal.

The head emerged slowly, the golden hair tinged dark brown by the water. Golden-brown eyes looked about the room in confusion until it finally rested on him. The elf winced. Yes, this will definitely foolish.

"You," The king said, recognizing the elf.

"Morning, Éomer!" Legolas said cheerfully, not letting any of his inner turmoil show on his youthful face as he leant against the edge of the bathtub. He let go of his hidden knife in his boot and crossed his arms casually. There was no sense of danger as of yet, for Éomer was still blinking back his confusion and drink. Then Legolas tilted his head as if in thought. "Although I have to say, morning has long since passed. It is noon at the moment."

"How did you get here?" Éomer's voice was thick with sleep or perhaps, the after-effects of drink. Legolas did not know which and did not care. All he cared was that his neck came out in one piece- along with the rest of his body parts. In fact, it would be better if he make a run for it while he still had the time.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Why, on horses of course. Although when I came here, I was disappointed to see you fast asleep. It was a condition I was willing to change."

"You threw me into the bathtub?" Oh dear, time was quickly disappearing.

"You needed to be awoken as quickly as possible."

"You even dare to wake me up." Legolas knew he had been reckless this time.

"It was an itch I needed to scratch."

It was a wrong thing to say. For a man who was suffering from after-effects of the drink, Éomer moved incredibly fast. Before Legolas could move, Éomer was on to him. Legolas felt himself pushed back towards the table containing oils and bathing gear. The elf fell on his back on the table. Éomer's hand had clamped around Legolas' throat. Legolas' own hand flew to his throat, stopping the warrior's hand from tightening further. Swinging his leg upwards, Legolas landed a solid kick on the king's temple. _That is going to aggravate his headache, _Legolas thought fleetingly. Éomer flew sideways. The elf bounded out of the room straight into the King's bedchamber.

He did not have the time to turn around when Éomer grabbed him from the back and pushed him. Legolas quickly maneuvered himself so that he was sitting on his behind. As he turned, he could hear the sharp whistle of a blade withdrawn as Éomer sheathed Gúthwine. _Oh dear…_ Legolas thought.

"Now, Éomer let us not be so hasty…" But there was no way to reason with him.

With a guttural roar, the king launched himself at the elf.

Legolas dodged the blows from the sword, swinging back and forth smoothly as the sword whistled about him. The elf added a few smart blows here and there. The two went into the intricate duel and Éomer slowly pushed the elf into the King's Study.

But the Elven Prince was unused to the terrain. Without realizing it, Legolas had been trapped between the Éomer's charging and the desk. The back of his legs slammed against the edge of the wooden table, pushing him off balance. Legolas fell on his back. He was about to get up when he suddenly went still. The cold steel was pressed against his throat. He looked up to see Éomer sneering down at him.

"It was a bad idea to wake me up the way you did."

"Was it really?"

"One swipe and your head will be off your shoulders."

"One jab and your heart will have a new ornament."

Éomer looked down to see Legolas' thin blade an inch away from his bare chest. Looking at the elf's face, the young king could see a lazy, boyish smile. "Shall we call a truce?"

Éomer gave a bark of laughter, but his eyes still burned in fury.

"You have me at a disadvantage, master elf." Éomer pulled away. Legolas got up slowly, his knife still poised for any unexpected attack. But the young king went over to wear his armor was placed, and re-sheathed his sword. Legolas replaced his knife back into his boot, thankful that the first part of the argument was over.

"How did you get here?" Éomer asked with his back towards the elf. Legolas raised an eyebrow and replied, "As I had told you, on hors-"

"I know that!" Éomer snapped angrily, whipping about. "I meant why!"

"To help where it is required." Legolas answered quietly, with no trace of previous mirth. "In fact, I was called to come here, to give aid and counsel."

"Who would-" Éomer drew a shuddering breath. "Éowyn."

"She did what she thought was right." Legolas said. He seemed to be defending her a lot. Did the lady always put herself in the line of fire?

"I plan to have a word with her," Éomer growled, turning to leave. Legolas raised an eyebrow. "In that state of undress?" The elf asked pleasantly, gesturing towards the king's burly frame. Looking down, Éomer realized what Legolas meant. Grabbing the same shirt that Legolas and the elves had pulled off of him for the bath, the king shrugged it on and made to move for the door, stopping only when Legolas blocked the door.

"Half a moment, or so the hobbits would have said if they were here," Legolas commented. "Surely you do not plan to leave so? In plain words, my good king, you reek! A bath had been drawn for that purpose, though initially it was only meant to serve to awaken you. You may as well bathe when the water had been drawn."

"Surely you do not expect me to take a bath in that freezing water!" Éomer remarked in disbelief.

Legolas raised a brow at the outburst. "In fact, I do. And though I may be half your width, I am quite capable of bodily dragging you into the bathing chamber. I am only hindered by the titles we both possess and self-dignity." The Prince replied evenly. The king glared at the elf before disappearing into the adjoining room. Legolas, grinning and unable to help himself, added, "And make sure to have a change of clothes, yes?"

A growl answered him. Legolas hid a smile. There was a splash and the elf had a string of Rohirric curses, some of which, regrettably, Legolas could understand and others he was thankful he could not interpret. A few moments later, Éomer emerged, cleaner and wearing clean clothing. Legolas looked at him with a hint of surprise. "That was fast." He noted.

"You learn to take quick baths in cold water while being a soldier." Éomer replied gruffly, using a comb for his wet and tangled hair.

After he was somewhat presentable, the king left his rooms without bothering over the elf. Legolas sighed and followed, realizing his time in Rohan will be tiring one.

If Éomer suffered from the headache Legolas had given him (and the one given by the drinking), he did not show it. The King walked resolutely, not even turning to see if the elf was following. Legolas followed slowly.

He would have continued walking behind the King if it hadn't for the strange presence in the dark corridor. Legolas stopped and peered into the darkness, making out the fine detail of a cloaked figure. The elf grinned. _"Come now. Surely you did not think I would simply walk by without realize you are there?"_

Fion pulled off his hood as he emerged from the darkness and eyed his former apprentice. _"It seems you have not entirely forgotten your training."_

_"I haven't forgotten any of it." _Legolas retorted. _"Otherwise I would have walked on, now wouldn't i?"_

Fion waved his hand, letting the matter slide. Then he gestured at the corridor where the King had disappeared to.

_"I assume it went well." _Fion said.

_"Aye, I would say it did." _Legolas said, grinning. Fion raised an eyebrow and pointed towards the prince's throat. Legolas raised his hand over the mentioned area. He felt the area sore and slightly raised. He imagined the purple bands where Éomer had choked him.

_"We had a very emotional meeting." _Legolas quipped with amusement. _"The bruises are nothing that time would not mend."_

Fion shook his head in disbelief, _"You have a strange way of simplifying complicate matters. Come; let us see what this king is up to. Something tells me he needs a constant minder as you do." _The veteran gave the elf no chance to reply and walked away. Legolas smirked and followed the older elf.

They entered the room to find Éomer and Lady Éowyn arguing. Éothain was standing at a side, rubbing the back of his neck as he listened. The elves were there as well. Evidently, the room was being refurnished and Éowyn was using the elves' help, for the furniture was disturbed and some of the elves sat or leaned casually on the overturned couches and dissembled pieces of tables and bed. Most of Legolas' company looked uncomfortable for being caught into the siblings' argument.

"I do not a need of him being here." Legolas heard Éomer say.

"Brother, he is here only to help where it is needed." Éowyn replied, exasperated.

"He has no place here."

"You had better expect him to stay, for he is staying." Éowyn snapped angrily.

"So you have assigned a nursemaid for me." Éomer replied wryly. Behind him, he could hear a cry of utter outrage.

"I say! I am not here to be your nursemaid; I am here to be your nanny!"

Éothain guffawed, and Éowyn hid her smile behind her hand. The elves of Mirkwood were far too trained and remained expressionless. The young king whipped about and fixed the prince with a glare. The elf was obviously not laughing. Too obviously.

"I have no need of nannies."

"Well, it seems you have a bad experience of nannies, my friend." Legolas replied pleasantly. His face showed no humor, which was meant Legolas was laughing inside.

"It is not the nanny that frightens me but their unwanted attention."

Legolas' eyes glinted, but not out of humor. The Elven Prince's patience was growing thin.

"Well, you need not worry; I am not going to sing you to sleep with a doll underneath your arm." Legolas snapped, annoyed. Then he sighed wearily. "Éomer, if you have no need of my help, I will not remain. I will not stay where I am not wanted."

Éomer opened his mouth immediately to say something, probably to banish the elf and his company out of his lands when Éothain wisely (or unwisely) spoke up, "Why not let the elves stay here awhile and we will see how it goes, eh?"

Éomer, aghast, was about to refuse when Éowyn quickly interrupted. "That is a wonderful idea, Éothain. That is a better course."

Éomer glared at both his sister and his friend. "Fine," Éomer snapped, his voice lined with annoyance. "But he is not welcome."

"Éomer, please…" The White Lady pleaded, but the young king paid her no attention and shouldered his way to the door. Éothain sighed and followed the king, casting an apologetic look at the others in the room.

_"He is such a bright sunray on the clear waters." _Dorián drawled.

_"Rather like Dorián," _Bregon quipped. The elf moved away quickly, putting as many people as he could between him and Dorián. The latter looked offended, _"Come now, do not compare me with a mere mortal."_

_"And yet, when we compare you with a mere mortal, the entire sentence is an explanation in itself." _Another elf quipped. Dorián cast the offender a disdainful glance and remarked, _"You know, my good friend, sarcasm is not the lowest form of wit. In fact, it is not a form of wit at all. And that," _Dorián added, snapping his fingers under the elf's nose, _"is an explanation in itself."_

_"And this is why I never enjoyed travelling with an escort. I have to listen to their petty arguments for the rest of my stay here." _Legolas murmured to Fion as Dorián and the other bickered. Fion snorted in amusement. The veteran immediately became grim and nudged at the prince, nodding towards Éowyn. Looking at the lady, he saw her standing alone in the middle of the room, her arms protectively about her middle and obviously upset over her brother's blatant indifference towards her. The other elves had noticed as well, and quickly included her in their conversations, distracting her from her dark thoughts.

oOo

Somewhere close to the evening, the elves excused themselves and withdrew to the rooms that Éowyn had given them.

_"Well, what an eventful welcome to this new land." _Bregon commented, collapsing on one of the chairs. The other elves went about, inspecting their rooms and murmured an agreement to Bregon's remark.

_"As interesting as staying with dwarves, and just as refreshing," _Another added.

_"Hush, Arandur." _Legolas chided at the one who commented. _"We are welcome here, though the king does not perceive it such. It would be wise to keep thy critical remarks to thyself, for the Rohirrim are proud folk and not easily humored with such words. And courtesy demands us to be kind to our hosts, though they are not to us." _Arandur bowed his head at the censure, but took no offence. The elves had already accepted Legolas' command, knowing full well that beneath the mischief and the charm was a leader fully capable of making sound decisions.

_"For now you all are dismissed. Go, and freshen yourselves. Stay close to Meduseld if you plan to go into the city. I do not wish for any of you to come to harm."_

The elves murmured their leave and withdrew to the adjoining bedchambers, leaving Legolas and Fion in the main chamber. The Elven Prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This seemed to be complicated.

_"Do not worry overmuch." _Fion advised. _"You would see things sorting themselves out without your help."_

_"I hope." _Legolas replied fervently. Their conversation was interrupted by a timid knock on the door. Fion answered it, and made for the boys that had come to drop the elves' saddlebags in the room.

_"So what do you intend to do about the King?" _Fion asked, smiling in thanks when one of the stable boys left the last of their saddle bags into their rooms. The veteran knelt, taking his essentials from his bag, turning his back at the elf he was speaking to.

Legolas smiled grimly, looking out of the window.

_"Do remember when Aragorn was swallowed into depression?"Tis the time when fair Lady Gilrean died."_

_"Aye, I do." _Fion commented puzzled. He twisted a little to regard his former apprentice. A slow grin formed on the veteran's face. "_Surely you do not intend what I think you are planning to intend."_

_"In fact, I am." _Legolas confirmed, absently rubbing his arms. He had taken more of a beating than he originally thought. _"If I am correct, and if Éomer is anything like Aragorn was when the latter was younger, I expect the Rohirric to try and prove me wrong. That would mean he would do things just for the sake of annoying me."_

_"And you are never annoyed." _Fion murmured, grinning as he pulled out spare clothes from his saddle bag.

_"I plan to nip his mischief from the bud, so to speak." _Legolas said, turning towards the door. _"Nothing can be done till nightfall, I fear. I will be outside if any look for me."_

_"Shall I tell the others to know what to expect?" _Fion asked, referring to the elven company. Legolas waved a careless hand as he left.

_"Oh, if they know me, they will know what to expect."_

oOo

It was nighttime and a feast was called to welcome the elves. Éowyn had made sure there was plenty to eat. The food was served hot and delicious. The tables were arranged at the sides, letting those who wished to dance have some space in the middle of the hall. Music, though, could barely be heard over the loud chatter and laughter. The elves ate quietly, taking in the foreign sight. Food was different from their homes, where the woodland herbs gave the meat a certain uniform taste. Here in the Riddermark, the food was spicy and each bite brought a burst of flavors. Much to Legolas' and Fion's amusement, none of the elves (including themselves) would admit it, but the food was too spicy for their liking.

_"He is not going to forgive you for this,"_ Fion commented as he watched the king drink yet another mug of ale.

_"None of them do, at least initially."_ Legolas replied, pushing back his plate as he watched the commotion before him. _"Besides,"_ he added, _"I find this technique the most effective."_

_"Aye, it is!"_ Dorian cried, laughing. "_I remember my own experience when you had used it on me!"_

_"One that I will not hesitate in repeating again, my friend,"_ Legolas said, giving a pointed look to the second serving of the intoxicating drink. Dorian drew back his hand sheepishly. Legolas shook his head and took a sip of cool water. He was not going anywhere near the other drinks till he had accomplished what he had in his mind. It would not be easy, though he knew it would be something he would gain a satisfaction of. Sighing, the elf pushed back his chair as he stood. Seeing their prince stand, the other elves followed suit.

_"I take it we are going with the plan_," Legolas heard Bregon comment.

_"Have you ever seen your prince not going with it?"_ Fion asked. Bregon grinned, understanding the answer. Legolas smiled as well. Surely he was not getting too predictable?

Éothain was making his way towards the Elven Prince. "Should you not do something about that, nanny?" Éothain asked absently, pointing at the more or less drunken king. Behind him, he could hear his comrades' chuckle at the prince's nickname.

"I am," Legolas replied, grumbling. "I am waiting for him to go dead drunk like before and then I will make him regret it."

Éothain gave a confused look before suddenly grinning, "Aragorn did say something about you being ruthless to your men. Is there any way my men and I can help?"

"Will not your king dislike your interference?" Fion asked from behind him.

"Aye," Éothain grinned, "Which makes it even more humiliating than ever before. I guarantee that he will think twice before coming near any barrel of ale after this one."

Satisfied, Legolas pointed his thumb behind him, "Ask them if you want to know what we are planning."

Dorián, who could never resist, added, "And do not worry for suffering censure at the hands of the king. Rest assured that Legolas is always willing to bear the blame." Laughter rippled through the Elven Rangers.

_"Funny," _Legolas mumbled. "_You forget I am fully capable to plan tricks on all of you. I am sure there are many cold and wet dungeons back in our forest."_

"For now," Legolas added in Westron. "I am outside to breathe the fresh air rather than the stench of wine and smoke here. Call me when he is done."

With that elf stalked outside, leaving the elves to converse with Éothain and his Riders.

Éomer had passed out in the middle of the night. Legolas came back inside to help Éothain carry the king to his chambers. The prince lowered the warrior to the bed, and stepped back to study him.

At last, Éothain said, "Do not be hard on him, Legolas. He has seen many hardships when he was young and it has taken a toll on him."

"Perhaps, and it is understandable. But that does not mean one should drown himself in alcohol. The memories will not vanish, nor does one solve his problems from the cup." Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose, wearily. Éothain remained silent for some time before speaking quietly, "Forgive me, but I believe you elves are far too quick to judge. It was never his intent to become fond of wine and ale. I doubt he realizes it. It just… happened." There was a sharp edge in the Rider's tone, however hard he tried to hide it. Legolas clasped the burly man's shoulder.

"Forgive me," Legolas said softly. "It was never our intent to sound so judging. I spoke more out of shock. I have been brought up to dislike excess of wine, and other evils that haunt the race of Men. We never see it among our own kind, and it is our upbringing that speaks for us."

"He can be a great king." Éothain murmured.

"He will be a great king." Legolas corrected, and then stopped, before adding, "Once I am done with him."

Éothain let out a bark of laughter. Legolas slowly smiled. He had been with the Rohirrim long enough to understand he had been forgiven.

"I have a question for you," Éothain said. "I am not entirely sure if it is wise to let a foreigner help us handle our affairs. I hope you are not offended by bluntness." Legolas shook his head.

"My people are as blunt as your people. Frankness is better than flowery phrases full of lies. You are worried that sensitive matters in the hands of a foreigner are a form of weakness and can be exploited. I can assure you that the only intention I have is to help where I can. If you do not wish for me to see any matter, tell me and I will stay away."

"And do you even have the experience to advise the king?"

Legolas raised a brow.

"I used to help my father with the kingdom when he was newly made king." Legolas said wryly. "And I am a prince, after all."

"Then I am content." Éothain said.

This brought up his next question, which he asked hesitantly.

"May I ask what exactly the situation in the Mark is? A day has passed and we are still walking in circles."

Éothain pointed towards the king's study. "You will find your answers there, I believe. However, it will make a long reading."

"Do not worry; I plan to stay here for a while. No," Legolas said, laughing when Éothain narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "I will not prank him, at least while he is asleep!" The man gave a small nod.

"Very well, I only ask you not to think less of us when you have finished reading."

Before Legolas could say anything, the man left.

Checking the king once last time to see if he was truly asleep, the elf made his way towards the study. There on the King's table were the stacks of papers and reports that needed Éomer's attention. Legolas sat down on the lofty chair and glared at the stacks. Resigned, Legolas gave a sigh and reached forward towards the nearest pile. Settling back in his chair for more comfort, the elf prepared for a long night.

oOo

The elf put down the report he had been reading, his heart heavy with sorrow and worry. It had been two hours since he had picked up the first batch of reports. He was not done yet, for there were many other reports that had yet been unread. It was not a light reading. Each report bore grimmer news than the one before it.

Legolas did not even know where to start. Each problem seemed grimmer than the next. What was worse, each problem was tightly interwoven with the other problems. Rohan, with her fertile lands, depended heavily on her fields and crops. But there was no grain and that meant that there will be no harvest this year. The storage from the previous year was almost finished. The treasury was empty, because it was spent in the war. There was no way to buy grain. The fields were destroyed. They had to be ploughed and salvaged. Villages had been burned, especially those situated in the outer regions of the Westemnet. Those villages faced the Wrath of Isengard, where Saruman had unleashed his armies of wild men, the Dunlendings.

The only relief that Rohan had was that no grouped attacks came from either the orcs or the Dunlendings, which meant that Rohan's éoreds can be used in helping Rohan rebuild her villages, towns and cities. But the villages did not have many men. The women and children made up the majority of population now that many of the men had fallen during the War of the Ring.

_How did Éomer keep his country from falling apart? _Legolas wondered, shifting absently through the numerous reports from various lords throughout the kingdom. It was an admirable feat, particularly because none of the Gondorians, elves and dwarves realized Rohan's weakened state when Éomer had welcomed them on Théoden's funeral. Slowly, Legolas' regard for the young king increased. And yet the elf could not help but feel a little sad. It was understandable how Éomer sought solace in the habit that led made him unconscious at the moment. But what was more, why did Aragorn not help?

Legolas' grim thoughts were interrupted when he heard a low groan from the bedchamber. Legolas furrowed his brow. Éomer could not be up, at least not after how much he had taken for drink. Getting up, the elf made his way to the bedchamber.

The fire in the fireplace casted a fiery red glow about the room. Éomer was asleep, but he was not sleeping quietly. The king tossed and turned, muttering something in Rohirric. Éomer was speaking too fast for the elf to understand, but Legolas knew it was not a good dream. He heard Éowyn's name, blood, war, Théodred.

Legolas hovered at the edge of the bed, trying to decide what to do next. If this had been either Aragorn or Gimli, Legolas would have had seeped into their minds and shifted through their memories, pushing down the bitter ones and bringing their happier ones in front of them. He would have eased their sleep for them as he had done so many times when they had been pursuing the orcs that had imprisoned Merry and Pippin. But Éomer was a different case. Legolas had not known him very well, and the prince was reluctant to enter a mind he was not welcome to.

After a moment's hesitation, the elf came to a decision. He did not sift through the king's mind but pressed his own good memories on the king. Legolas shared all the good times with the king. He showed him the time when he raced with his father in the woods, the quiet singing with his fellow Rangers at night, the nightly feasts in palace where there was food and laughter. Slowly, Éomer's breathing eased and the king went into happier dreams. Legolas pulled away, carefully taking his memories with him.

Legolas smiled down at the sleeping form of the king, who was now sleeping well. Legolas sighed and rubbed his temples. Then he turned and went for the door. Just before he left, the elf turned and looked at bed.

"Sleep well, Éomer King. Tomorrow I will not be so merciful."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sincere apologies. I confused one file with another while updating. Thus the chapter was taken down and reposted.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

There is an error in Chapter 1 which causes italicise of parts that should not be in italics. I am currently fixing it. Sorry for the inconvenience.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The sun had fully risen in the sky, banishing the stars and the darkness of the previous night. The people were slowly wakening, some of which had already started their daily chores. Many of them were women, while the others were men, who were changing the guard duty and tending to the horses in the stables. Already he could hear a mild chatter as people stopped to chat with others. He could see the guards who had night patrol returning to the homes for a good sleep.

Legolas sat, perched on one of the roofs of the houses, with his legs bent and his head resting on his knees. One the Mirkwood hawks, a female by the name of Silverclaw, sat on his left shoulder. She was crooning and nibbling tenderly on strands of hair.

"_If you are hungry, you can go and hunt. I will not keep you."_ Legolas said absently, watching the people go about their business. Silverclaw looked up and turned one beady eye to glare at him. _"Don't look at me like that,"_ Legolas said, _"Only my father looks at me like that. I know you are angry at me for not writing to my father yet, but it has barely been a day since I came here."_ The hawk gave a shrill cry. _"I can thought-speak to him, Silverclaw. I need no paper and ink to send to him." _Silverclaw turned one beady eye to glare at him.

_"Alright, alright,"_ Legolas said, sighing_. "I will write to my father as soon as possible, but not now. Satisfied?"_ Silverclaw looked satisfied, and took flight. Legolas watched her leave the city, probably to go hunt. The Elf shook his head. The hawk had been a gift from Thranduil to him, and ever since then Silverclaw had always sided with his father at every matter. Traitor, the Elf concluded with a smile.

Deciding that it was time, Legolas dropped down from the roof and made his way up the steps of Meduseld. Flashing a quick smile to the door-wardens, Legolas stepped inside.

Seeing Legolas enter the Golden Hall, Lady Winflead sent one of the maids running to prepare some breakfast for the king. "And a bath," Legolas called after the girl, "a heated one." He added hastily when he felt the housekeeper's stern eyes on him.

He made his way to the lodgings Éowyn had given him. Meduseld was going through many changes and many of the guestrooms were being aired and redecorated. The Elves had to share the rooms. These rooms were not small at all. It was more of a suite than simple rooms. Three bedchambers were adjoined together by passageways, with an attached bathing room. The rooms were luxurious, with spread rugs and fur-lined blankets to chase away the cold at night.

Swinging open the heavy door, he was not surprised to see his friends awake.

"_About time," _Dorián commented impatiently. _"We were wondering where you had run off to."_

"_Patience is the key, my good friend."_ Legolas commented, smiling. He sat down on one of the chairs facing the fireplace, where a fire burned merrily. He leant back and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace.

"_When do we plan to start?" _Bregon asked.

"_Patience is the key, my good friend." _Legolas repeated, not bothering to open his eyes.

There was a momentary silence, before Arandur finally asked, _"Do we even plan to go along or are we simply sitting here?"_

"_Patience is the key, my good friend."_

"_If I had a coin for every time I heard that." _Dorián muttered under his breath.

"_Which is saying something," _Bregon commented.

Legolas grinned. Why are people so impatient? It only tempted him.

There was some peace and quiet before he heard another impatient voice, _"How about now?"_

Legolas opened his eyes in surprise. Fion was pacing the floor restlessly. The younger Elf stared at his former mentor in disbelief, _"Did you just ask me when we will start?"_

"_Indeed I have. This wait is starting to wear my patience!" _Fion replied, his voice sounding gruff as he turned on the corner to pace back.

"_But- but- you are supposed to keep me out of mischief! My father specially chose you all to make sure there were no pranks and jests on this trip." _Legolas looked around him in disbelief. All the Elves wore guilty expressions, most of them impatient to start. _"You all want to play this trick?"_

"_Is it truly so hard to believe?"_

"_Knowing that it is coming from my father's elite he specifically chose to keep my out of mischief, yes!" __Then Legolas paused. __"But we have been comrades for long. I do not think it should surprise me in way."_

"_Come now, what King Thranduil does not know will not hurt him." _Fion said reasonably. Then the veteran winced. Fion had close friendship with the King, and he knew what Thranduil's wrath was like. _"At least," _Fion amended. _"It will not hurt him much."_

"_And besides, such a trick usually only works on Men. And it has been so long…" _Dorián trailed off, hoping Legolas would understand. The Prince only smiled. Elves of Mirkwood, by nature, were more playful and fun-loving than other elves. Besides, it was a good break from the monotonous duties and responsibilities of Rangers.

"_Now," _Legolas said, deciding it was time. Winflead must have had enough time to draw the bath and prepare the food by now.

The Elves nodded, some of them retiring to the other rooms. They returned with harps and flutes. After making some adjustments the Elves started to play a soft tune. Legolas stayed a while, listening to the soft tunes. Unlike the music of Elves of Lothlorien and of Rivendell, the music of Mirkwood was vivid and deep and mysterious. Just like Mirkwood itself.

Knowing that the Elves will be doing their part, Legolas had left just after his escort started to sing. Closing the door behind him, he came face to face with Lady Winflead, who bore a large tray full of food.

"The bath is ready as well." The housekeeper said, holding out the tray for the elf to take. Legolas smiled his thanks and took the tray.

"That will not help, but I thank you nevertheless." Legolas said, nodding towards the cup of steaming tea that Winflead had placed for the King.

" 'Tis best you leave the rest to me." Legolas said, smiling at the housekeeper. Winflead narrowed her eyes in suspicion before finally curtsying stiffly. She left without so much as a cordial word. Legolas bit his lip to keep back his laughter. Evidently, Winflead had too much experience with mischief to be swayed by his charms.

His hands were occupied by the tray, so he used his foot to kick the King's door open. Without any qualms, the prince entered without bothering to announce his entry.

The room was dark. The fire had gone out in the night and Legolas had closed the windows when he left the last night. A still figure lay on the bed, covered completely with many layers.

"Morning, my good king!" Legolas called, his voice louder than usual. To his satisfaction, the king moved about angrily under the covers. Oh, he had never had this much fun since Aragorn's time.

"Could you lower his voice?"

"Not really," Legolas bellowed on top of the king. Éomer buried himself deeper into his bed.

Legolas was in a particularly good mood when he realized that his expectation became true. The doors in Meduseld were thick and heavy. However, the wood was porous, and did not hinder sound. Earlier, he had asked Éowyn to let them have the rooms closest to that of Éomer's. She gave him the rooms in the same corridor and directly opposite to the King's chambers.

And he could hear the Elves' singing.

The Elf placed the tray on the table facing the fireplace. The utensils rattled; their sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Éomer gave a muffled groan. Legolas smiled. So the king really did drink too much last night. Especially the fact that Éomer hadn't been drinking ale as he thought.

"So, how did your night go?" Legolas asked pleasantly. There was no answer, and Legolas did not expect one.

Legolas came to sit on the edge of the bed. Éomer vaguely felt the mattress sink under Legolas' weight.

"I do not understand," Éomer said, his voice muffled under the covers. "I never had these worse side-effects from drinking ale."

"That is because you were not drinking ale, my good friend." Legolas said pleasantly. Éomer pulled down his covers just enough to let his eyes see Legolas. Seeing the Elf's smirk gave Éomer a sudden urge to wipe it off his face, if it were not for the fact moving made him regret ever living.

"Then, pray tell," Éomer fought to keep his anger in check. "What was I drinking?"

"Dorwinion wine, my friend." Legolas replied immediately, thoroughly enjoying himself. Maybe he was becoming, what did Lord Elrond call it? Sadistic was the word.

"Let me refresh your memory, good king. Sometime in the night, when you were thoroughly gone far enough, you had called for something stronger. So, deciding to give you what you wanted, you were given Dorwinion wine, a kind that my father is very fond of, and many soldiers and servants tried to taste without my king's knowledge and thus mistakenly had too much."

The Elf tilted his head as if in thought. " 'Tis a strange concoction. If drunk in small amounts, the liquid can awaken your senses and make you more alert, banishing sleep and weariness. It is harmless in small quantities for both Elves and Men. Too much of it, however, can cause drunkenness."

"Now, mind you," Legolas said, laughing softly. "Elves do get drunk, but we do not lose our senses or have memory lapses. We certainly do not have lack of conduct. Instead, we fall into a deep sleep, full of pleasant dreams. The next day is terrible, however, for our limbs become slower than usual. Wine of any type, can be fatal and poisonous in varying amounts, depending upon the type of wine."

"For men, however, the experience is entirely different. Too much of the wine causes worse side-effects than any of the Mannish liquors. It causes severe headache, accompanied by unpleasant dreams in sleep. I had once used such a method on Aragorn, though I am sure he will never admit it. The result was extraordinary." Legolas got up and moved towards the window. Éomer's eyes followed him. "Poor Aragorn barely was able to handle almost anything. He also showed a queasy stomach and," Legolas added, "A sensitivity to light and sound, much more than norm."

Legolas' words only took a second to sink in. Unfortunately, a second was all that the Elven Prince needed. "Legolas, don't-"

Éomer's plea came too late. Legolas threw open the windows, letting the sunlight burst in. the king's eyes hurt terribly in the light, which seemed to glaringly white. With a pained groan, the king burrowed deeper into the covers. Still, there was no refuge. He could still see the light under his blankets.

What was more; the Elves seemed to have the rooms opposite to his. Éomer could hear their singing as well, that only seemed to be growing louder. Some may call it beautiful and haunting, but at the moment Éomer would call it downright annoying.

Then he heard another type of singing. The words were Rohirric. With some horror, Éomer's stuffy mind was able to recognize Éothain's voice.

Legolas was more than just a little amused. Fate seemed to be on his side that morning, for the king's chambers were located just opposite to one of the many stables. Looking outside, Legolas watched as Éothain led his men to one of the more rowdy songs. From what little Legolas could understand, Legolas was, again, thankful that his Rohirric vocabulary was limited. He really did not want to know the rest of the song.

"Well, now." He heard Legolas comment, laughter plain in his voice. "I do believe Éothain is in a good mood today." He placed his back against the wall and crossed his ankles and arms. "My father was not one to give ranks just for the sake of bloodline. One must prove himself worthy of his rank. When I was given leadership, there were few who tested my patience. You may have heard that Elves are partial to wine. But taking wine at the cost of one's duty was something I never tolerated." Legolas tilted his head. "They learnt quickly of my dislike."

Glancing back at the figure on the bed that seemed to be trying to bury itself into the bed, Legolas felt a surge of pity. Aragorn had not fared any better when Dorwinion wine had taken to him. The Elves too, when they decided to help themselves more than is proper.

Besides, all Legolas wanted to do was make Éomer regret his drinking, not make the poor king desire to behead himself.

He let the singing go on for some time before finally gesturing Éothain to stop. The rider noticed the signal and immediately went silent, his men falling quiet along with him. He had already told the Elves when to cease and sure enough, they stopped after their last song finished.

As Gimli once commented, nothing is more annoying than listening to an Elf sing, particularly when he put his heart to it.

"Come now," Legolas said tenderly, walking over to the bed and rubbing the king's blanket-covered shoulder. "The effects of the Dorwinion wine will only seem worse if you lay in the bed. It vanishes more quickly if you would be up and about your normal duties. 'Tis the most unpleasant form of recovery, I fear, but I assure you will recover much more quickly."

Éomer pulled back his cover just a little, so that his sleep-clouded eyes looked into Legolas' clear blue ones.

"Up, up, Master Éomer!" Legolas commented, patting the king in encouragement. "I assure you, you will recover quickly if your mind is busied in some activity." The king sighed. Knowing that the Elf would not give up until he would leave the bed, he pushed back the covers.

Glaring at the Elf who was suspiciously not smiling, Éomer said. "You are enjoying this."

"Aye, I am!"

Éomer groaned softly as he straightened himself. Forcing his eyes open, the Rohirric resolutely struggled to sit up. Legolas got up and stepped back as the man swung his legs over the side of the bed "Never again…" Éomer groaned.

"Music to my ears," Legolas commented flippantly, smiling at his own wit. Éomer did not bother to comment.

It was willpower that helped Éomer to get up and take a bath. Legolas smiled softly once Éomer had left. He then started the fire, letting it burn in the fireplace.

Legolas waited patiently, sitting on a rug in front of the fire. He heard slow sounds of water splashing and smiled in sympathy. Elves could hold liquor much more gracefully than men, for elves only sink into pleasant dreams and recover from it. Men, on the other hand, suffered worse side-effects, ranging from headaches and sensitivity to light and sound, vomiting, unpleasant dreams- and Dorwinion wine produced the worse possible state for those conditions for Men. Still, Legolas thought with a rueful smile, the trick always worked.

On a more serious note, Legolas toyed with the idea on how to confront Éomer over the state of his kingdom. Legolas, although trained as both as a soldier and as a prince, never had a way of words. He preferred straightforward ways and not careful tactics in coaxing someone to speak of their problems.

His thoughts were brought to a stop when Éomer re-entered the room.

"How do you feel?" The Elf asked.

"I have been better." The king replied, sitting on the rug opposite to the Elf. Legolas gestured towards the large tray, "Let us break our fast first."

They shared the food together. Due to the shortage of grain, most of the food consisted of meat, but neither of them minded. Éomer drank the tea Lady Winflead had put aside for him. It had grown cold, but was still drinkable.

They fell into an awkward silence once they had eaten. Standing up, Legolas placed the tray on one of the smaller tables beside the fire. The Elf wondered how to go about the next part of his plan. Not being able to come up with a solution, the Elf finally decided to take the less troublesome course- even if it would be a little painful.

Legolas brought the reports from the King's Study and placed it with a thump in front of Éomer. Sitting back down, Legolas looked at the king unflinchingly. "Explain," the Elf said.

Éomer glared at the Elf. "You had no right to go through the reports of my kingdom."

"The same way you had no right to neglect your kingdom because of your grief!"

"I have not neglected my kingdom because of my grief!"

"Really!" Legolas cried in annoyance. Éomer winced at the sound. Having some amount of sympathy, the Elf brought down his voice just a little. "Then tell me, Éomer, since when do you even- never mind!" the Elf growled. "I have had just about enough of your childish activities."

"Childish acti-"Éomer sputtered.

"You heard right!" Legolas snapped. "Now behave and do as I say, for I will not even try to dignify your behavior with coaxing words!"

"Or what?" Éomer challenged.

"Or nothing," Legolas replied easily. "But I do believe Éothain and his men would happily be able to express their disappointment most… splendidly."

"They wouldn't dare. I am their king!"

A pig-headed one, Legolas fumed. He was just about to make a cutting remark when he noticed something stranger in Éomer's behavior.

His shoulders were sagged. Legolas knew that sign. He had seen it too many times in his own father, when Thranduil had been holding his kingdom together with his fingertips. His father used to say that nothing is worse for a king than to be hopeless. Hopelessness can destroy a king's ambition, his hopes and his dreams for his land.

Éomer was not wallowing in grief. He was simply weighed down by care.

Everything started to make sense. It was his kingdom's problems that made him bitter. It was his kingdom's failing economy that made him afraid. In his fear, he became defensive. In his defensiveness, he pushed back the people who cared for him, and in the end, he sought peace in a way that Éomer would not have even dreamt of using had he been a mere Third Marshal.

"You fool," Legolas murmured. Éomer caught the words and his eyes flashed. The only reason he bit back his retort was when he looked into the Elf's eyes. There was no malice there. There was not even pity and sympathy as he expected to find. There was understanding.

"Why did you not ask for help?" Legolas asked. Éomer stiffened but soon relaxed, the rebellion nature swiftly leaving him.

"I would not disappoint my kingdom." Éomer said. Legolas looked up in his surprise. There was no bitterness in the words, and he did not hear the moodiness in the king's voice as he heard yesterday. The voice sounded more youthful and deep. It sounded more like… Éomer, from the time when he had been the Third Marshal, during the War.

"Looking for advice of running a country when you do not have any experience in the field is not disappointing your kingdom, Éomer." Legolas explained. "It is wisdom."

"Would you have done so in my place?"

"Nay, I wouldn't." Legolas admitted immediately. For the first time since he arrived, Legolas witnessed Éomer's smile.

"Then why are you advising me as such?"

"It has something to do with my Elven bloodline, I believe. I am supposed to sound wise and powerful."

"You are hardly that."

"I knew you had my sense of humor." Legolas replied flippantly. "For one who was adamant that we leave your lands, you seem to accept my presence very easily at the moment."

"I do not suppose you will remove yourself and your comrades from here."

But the Elf realized that, had it not for their fateful misunderstanding in their first meeting, their pride that had stopped each from apologizing, and no suitable setting for an apology, the two could have been close friends. Perhaps fate had brought them together to allow friendship to blossom.

"Now, if we are speaking in civilized tones, can we please get back to the reports?" Legolas asked, sounding polite for the first time since his arrival in Meduseld.

"Well, since you have asked so politely, how can I refuse?" Éomer winced, his headache becoming more pronounced.

"Excellent."

However, Legolas insisted that they work on the bed. He knew Éomer would not be able to handle sitting, and decided the bed would keep the king more comfortable, especially with his headache. They shifted the reports, maps, inkpots (much to housekeeper's disapproval) and quills to their modified workplace. Once settled, Legolas slowly guided the king to the task.

"I will kill you after you are no longer needed." Éomer said, leaning back on the bed. "This was the mightiest of headaches."

"You drank by the goblets," Legolas said. "When we serve it, we use the smallest of glasses present."

At noon, Legolas called for a halt. They had only sorted the problems but that was great progress. Legolas had guided Éomer to arrange the problems according to their urgency. Pretty soon, the network of problems all amounted to one thing; gold.

If they had gold in the treasury, they could buy grain. Buying grain would mean farming which meant a harvest. And harvest meant food for the coming season. Then came the rebuilding of the towns; Rohan had an extraordinarily large amount of population.

And they had very little time. Farming always started in summer, and in Rohan, summer was fast in coming. They needed gold by that time and also grain to have harvest in time and this meant that they had three to four months at the most.

At noon, though, Éomer's condition was really put to the test. Deciding not to push it, Legolas told the king to get some rest. He had been remarkable; the wine intake had not hindered Éomer as Legolas had expected at first. Perhaps Éomer's muscular frame and impressive size had played an important role. Once they had cleared the bed of all the documents and reports, Éomer had fallen instantly asleep, leaving the Elf to his thoughts.

Legolas leaned back and massaged his eyes. Now he knew why his father tired after handling the affairs of the Woodland Realm. This work was… tedious. What was more; the Elven Prince could not help but feel that he was forgetting something. It was surely something that he needed to do, but he just could not remember. Ah well, Legolas thought finally. It will come in time.

Glancing at the bed, Legolas felt some amount of pride for the Rohirric King. Éomer was difficult to persuade, but he was quick to learn and he worked with a certain amount of alertness. That meant that whatever Éomer thought of himself, the young king was still fit to rule. And he was no fool; there was intelligence in his eyes. Rohan can do with an intelligent king.

His musings were cut short when he heard the strangest sound; laughter. It came from outside. Puzzled, Legolas left the king's rooms, making great care to close the door softly behind him. What he did not tell Éomer was that Dorwinion wine left the drinker unnaturally alert once the headache subsided. The Rohirric King would not have a peaceful rest for a while.

He walked outside, following the laughter and the chatter till he came into the front area of Meduseld. A group of women sat upon the platform, with what seemed like baskets of cloth and sewing equipment. They seemed immersed in the task, talking contentedly as their hands deftly sewed the garments with ease of practice. Much to his astonishment, Lady Éowyn was sitting there too, with a cloth on her lap and needle and thread in her hand.

"You sew?" Legolas asked in bewilderment as he neared the White Lady. Éowyn looked up at the towering figure of the Elf. She laughed in amusement. "Why, yes. Is it truly so hard to believe?" She asked in turn, smiling at the Elf's surprise.

"When I know that you are shield maiden, yes!"

"I led the household during my uncle's reign. Womanly arts were something I grew up with. The art of sword I learned." Éowyn gestured towards her sewing, "In truth, I know little of sewing, for I devoted my time to arts of combat and taking care of the Meduseld household. But I can do mending. The others, however, can actually make something out of cloth."

Legolas looked around at the other ladies, who were bent on the task. Sure enough, Éowyn seemed to be the only one mending, while others seemed to be working on an entirely different project.

"What are you doing?" he asked. One of the women looked up and held up her piece of cloth. "We are making blankets, my lord. 'tis for the coming winter. Many of our towns and villages have been affected in the War and we try to help where we can."

"They must know that we are here to support them and that together we will be able to see through these hard times, as one nation."

"That does not seem so enjoyable. I would never have the patience for such work." Legolas remarked.

The ladies laughed in amusement. "That is why women take sewing and look after the household while men take the heavier activities." One of them said.

"Aye, I appreciate the women's part." Legolas replied.

"Besides, our work is easier when our children are looked after." Another said, gesturing towards the lower ground.

Legolas looked to where the ladies indicated and caught sight of his escort in the midst of children. Nodding at the ladies politely, Legolas climbed down the steps of Meduseld.

The Elves had definitely kept themselves busy while Legolas was with the King. Dorián was playing with a group of boys, chasing them around the wells. Legolas chuckled quietly as he watched his childhood friend catch the youngest and tickle him. Over at another side, some of the Elves were helping them check on the stables. There had been a thunderstorm some weeks before the elves had come, and lightning had caused fire in the stables. They helped the men carry wooden beams up to the stables. Bregon and Fion sat in a circle of children of all ages, where the former was telling one of their many tales of adventure.

Legolas approached the crowd carefully, making sure that none of the children were disturbed as he came close to his former mentor. He quietly slid by Fion and sat down. The veteran did not take his eyes off Bregon, who was using dramatic gestures to emphasize his tale.

"_You certainly are a fine lot!" _Legolas hissed angrily, sitting down beside Fion. The veteran was unaffected by Legolas' outburst. _"Here I am, suffering the king's wrath and my escort is enjoying a sunny day."_

"_Contrary to your belief, we had been working before we came out here. The West Wing was in dire need for airing and we had to move the furniture around. But the children soon got restless sometime near noon and we decided to take some time for a rest."_

Legolas looked down and saw the child in his former mentor's arms. The girl was singing softly in her own tongue, and tracing the embroidery on Fion's tunic.

"_You look good with a child in your lap." _Legolas teased. Fion grunted. One of the younger girls had not been intimidated by Elves and had scrambled into Fion's arms once she was sure he posed no danger. Now the youngling was content, her wild golden hair splayed against Fion's arms and his black hair twirling between her small fingers.

"_I keep telling you that you would look stunning if you marry, though you seem least interested." _Fion replied. _"But since you would not listen to marriage, then let us continue to a more serious topic. How went your meeting with the king?"_

"_Well, I believe it was the worry of the State that had- how on Middle-Earth?" _Legolas exclaimed, looking down at Fion. Fion looked down to see the young girl who had been playing with his braids, fast asleep. She held his black braids in her fists. The veteran winced as she tugged at his hair in her sleep.

_"Come, let us drop her off to her mother and we will continue our conversation in our rooms."_

Legolas and Fion slipped away from the crowd and made their way up the steps of Meduseld. One of the ladies looked up from her sewing and recognized her daughter in the Elf's arms. She quickly excused herself from Éowyn's company, and led the Elves inside to one of the nurseries just at the side of the Main Hall.

Once the child was safely nestled in warm fur-lined covers, the elves excused themselves and went to their rooms. As soon as they entered the rooms, Fion grabbed a change of clothing from the saddlebags and made his way behind the changing screen.

"_So, tell me," _Fion called over the screen. _"How was your meeting with the King?"_

Legolas turned to give the elf some privacy. _"As wonderful as it could be expected. There are many problems, one as great to the other. And yet I know that if we solve one problem, the others will become as insignificant."_

"_It is often the way," _Fion agreed, pulling on a shirt. _"And yet most problems only seem difficult if the mind perceives it as such. What I do not understand, though, is why Aragorn had not helped Rohan when he could. Gondor and Rohan are allies after all."_

That sparked Legolas' memory. So that was what he had forgotten!

"_I thank you for reminding me," _Legolas said stiffly. _"I had completely forgotten."_

Fion came out from behind the screen, tightening his belt as he did so. He cast his former apprentice a puzzled look. Legolas, on the other hand, paid the other no notice as he packed a few essentials for the journey.

"_Legolas, what are you doing?" _Fion asked, half worried as he followed the Elven Prince, watching him gather two saddlebags.

"_Packing,"_ came the short reply.

"_I can see that."_ There was a mixture of humor and exasperation in the older Elf's voice. _"May I ask why and where to?"_

"_To Gondor!" _Legolas snapped, walking towards the door. _"To knock some sense into a King who happens to call himself Aragorn!" _Legolas and his impulses, Fion thought fleetingly, his lips twitching in amusement. He shook his head as he followed the younger Elf out of the room.

They walked out of Meduseld. The White Lady and her company were not there and must have retreated inside when the wind became too harsh. Legolas entered the stables, situated at the left of Meduseld. As he entered, he scowled at one of the timid and young stable hands, sending him scurrying outside with a yelp. Fion, who had just entered, chuckled as the boy fled.

"_You certainly have a way with children." _Fion commented wryly.

"_I pride myself in it." _Legolas replied as he saddled his horse. Arod, his faithful friend who had accompanied him in the War and in this journey, looked up questionably when he felt the weight of the saddle on his back.

Fion knew it would be useless to plead Legolas to stay, but he tried nevertheless. _"Will you not at least think your journey through?" _

"_Nay! And besides, was it not you who advised me to trust my instincts?" _

"_I do regret my words." _Fion replied. _"You seem to have an ability to twist them for your own benefit. I believe you the letters explicitly told you to stay here and give aid."_

_"Have you ever seen me always falling orders or requests?"_

_Fion chuckled._

_"That I understand."_

Legolas checked his gear once more before leading Arod out of the stables. Once outside, Legolas mounted his horse and looked down at his former mentor. _"Will you look after the others while I am gone?" _He asked.

"_Do not flatter yourself." _The veteran replied gruffly. _"I was the one who taught you responsibility after all. Just make sure you do not kill Aragorn. It would not do to cause our Evenstar grief."_

"_Oh, I will not damage him… permanently." _That was the note of farewell. Legolas wheeled his horse towards the gates and took off at a gallop.

Fion smirked. Legolas was most unpleasant when annoyed. Aragorn had better have an explanation ready.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

-Elves love wine, but from the accounts in LOTR, they seem to like it only in times of leisure.

**Guest Reviews:**

-Guest 1: I completely agree. Poor Legolas does not know what is coming to him! Mu ha ha ha!

-WoodElfJedi: I waited for nearly three years for someone to catch that. :D But it is an actual quote before Ranger's Apprentice (amazing series, by the way, broke my heart in Royal Ranger).

-Guest 2: Really? Because I certainly did, though certainly not as a drunkard, or a violent one. There are many reasons men look for comfort in their cups. Rohirrim were described to be merry before and after a battle they won. They are basically built around on Angl-Saxon customs. I feel like they are a people with deeds of valour and praise, with customs surrounding feasts, mostly, like celebrating at a funeral feast and remembering the deceased's great deeds and good memories. :)


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It was a four days ride to Minas Tirith, even when Arod took rests in between. Arod was used to such a hard gallop, but the elf still rested the worthy beast whenever he could. The journey was uneventful, for there was no orc or beast in sight. To the lively prince of Mirkwood, the journey was far too boring; there was no one to cause mischief with.

However, the journey didn't do anything to cool Legolas' temper, nor did his annoyance with the Gondorian king vanish.

Father will be so proud of me, Legolas thought with a grin as he led his horse to a nearby stream for a drink. Four days and I have stayed out of trouble. It was a magnificent feat for one like him.

To his relief, on the fourth day Legolas reached the gates of the White City. He gave a polite nod to the guards standing by the broken gate; the designs for the new ones were still in progress. Legolas was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the plans where underway; the marble ruins and debris were removed and many of the buildings were still being restored. The security had not yet lessened though. Guards in silver and black still marched in the circles of the city, as if anticipating an attack from the now defeated Mordor. It will be a while before the men will finally accept that there was no longer a threat from the East, but there were still the horrors of war to overcome.

Handing over his horse to a groom, the elf gave some general instructions on his horse before letting the groom take over. Arod left quietly, too exhausted to notice his surroundings. If Legolas was to leave again and immediately, he will not be able to ride Arod until he fully regained his strength. Aragorn will have to provide him with a horse.

Giving a sigh (he seems to have been doing it a lot since he entered the Realms of Men), the elf eyed the slopes that led to the Citadel warily. He made a mental note to ask Gimli if there was some sort of mechanism that could transport a person from the ground to the higher regions without him lifting a finger; Legolas gave a sigh and started to climb. Oh, yes, Aragorn will never hear the end of this one.

By the time Legolas reached the Citadel, he comforted himself by imagining every sort of torture for the one who designed Minas Tirith in the rising circles. He was an elf, which meant that he did not tire easily, but the climbing was tedious and time consuming, especially when he had to go all the way up. Much to his dismay, Aragorn stood at the entrance of the Citadel, smiling smugly.

"You knew?" the elf asked in disbelief. "You knew I had arrived and you made me climb all these steps? What kind of a host are you?"

"I feel a certain satisfaction to see you toil, my friend. For reasons I cannot explain, it is most entertaining."

"I can. I believe they call it sadism."

"A trait I seem to share with you."

"I? Never!"

"Really? What have you been up to in Rohan then?"

"Who, me? I am an innocent!"

"Something tells me that Éomer would not agree to that statement."

"He hardly agrees with anything at the moment, but more on that later. Are you not going to invite me in?"

"Why, so you could wreak havoc in my household?"

"For the love of our Evenstar!" Legolas cried, exasperated. "Invite me into your house, mortal! I am hungry, in dire need of a bath and I need a change of clothing!"

The King wrinkled his nose ungracefully. "Since you said it..."

Aragorn led the elf inside, taking a route through the throne room into the more private regions of the Citadel. These were the private rooms of the King, along with those of the Steward and many unused guest rooms.

"Things seem to have improved around here." The elf observed once Aragorn showed him a guest room prepared for him. It was a spacious room, with lush carpets on the marble floor and finely tailored curtains.

"Arwen's work," the King admitted. "She has been taking care of the Citadel while I gave my attention to the city and the surrounding fiefs."

"That must have shocked the Gondorians." Legolas said, chuckling. According to the Gondorian customs, women were, well, more reined in. Most of the Gondorian noblewomen took no part in administration.

"I shall leave to let you refreshen yourself." The King declared before turning on his heel.

"What! But we have barely met each other."

"If you think I will greet you while you have the traveler's filth on you, you are sorely mistaken." Aragorn retorted.

"Come now, I am sure I do not smell so bad... Come here." Legolas said, grinning mischievously as the elf reached forward with his arms. As he expected, the King retreated with a yelp and fled. Laughing hard, Legolas shook his head fondly and turned to his current task.

Once he was refreshed by a good bath and a hearty meal, the elf leaned back in his chair in satisfaction. Aragorn had joined the elf while he ate, and smiled when the elf relaxed in his chair.

"I hope you fare better now." Aragorn said.

"I do." The elf confirmed.

"Then come, master elf! You owe me a greeting." Laughing, the elf kicked back his chair and got up to greet his old friend. Aragorn pulled the prince into a tight embrace, thumping his back as he did so. The elf winced. Why do men keep doing that? The elf wondered.

"You need a fresh change of clothing." Aragorn murmured into the elf's shoulder.

The elf chuckled. "You need to wear more comfortable clothing." The King's armor was uncomfortable under his chin.

"Gondorian Protocol," Aragorn explained as he pulled back. "I have to be dressed in black and silver with my armor while on duty as the High King."

"I am beginning to appreciate the Gondorians less and less."

"But tell me," Aragorn went on, "How come you are dressed in Rohirric fashion?"

Legolas looked down. When he left for Gondor, the elf grabbed any clothing that was within reach. He wore black, tight-fitting tunic with long tight sleeves. The tunic reached his knee, split in Rohirric fashion to give him a freedom of movement off and on a horse. He wore matching leggings, and the only luxury on the overall outfit was the golden embroidery at the hem of his tunic.

" 'Tis a gift from the fair Lady Éowyn," the elf confessed. "The women had once gotten hold of my suit during the War of the Ring and had made it as a gift. But the War and the later events had not given them the opportunity to give them to me."

"Surely it is a fine piece!" Aragorn said, admiring the clothing.

"It is, though I do not know why they had only made it for me and not for Gimli or you."

"Gimli is no rider," Aragorn said, laughing as he remembered the auburn-haired dwarf and his dislike for horses. "And the Gondorians would not let me out of their sight. They seem to think I will disappear into thin air."

"Enough about you and I!" The elf cried. "Tell me! Where is our Evenstar? For my heart will be glad to see her!"

"Ah, I knew you would ask," the High King answered. "Come, she is within her chambers, but she impatient to know how you fare. She longs to hear about the Elven Lands."

"Then I will tell her." The elf replied, smiling broadly.

And so the royal led the elf by the hand through a number of corridors, apologizing profusely for the distance they had to walk. Legolas didn't mind, and said as such, for it gave him some time to observe his friend as they walked together.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn was tall, his prowess in battle well-expressed by his body. He had an easy grace that he had often kept hidden under his cloak when he was a mere Ranger. The year in the Wild had not been kind to him, for he was scarred and his hands were weathered. He was weighed down by care and responsibility, the duty of a King adding to his burden, but Aragorn was still young in the eyes of the Dunedain. His face became youthful when he smiled, and he possessed kind grey eyes. There was still power in his movement, one that would intimidate its opponents, but he was just. Lord Elrond had taught him well, the elf thought with an assured smile. He will be a good king.

They reached the Queen's chambers. Aragorn pushed open the door, calling, "Arwen! There is someone here to see you."

Arwen was sitting by the fire, her legs curled underneath her. She was sewing, her raven locks falling forward as she bent over her task. Her husband's call startled her, and she looked up in confusion which quickly cleared away when she saw Legolas.

Legolas came forward with mixed feelings. It was a joy to see his age-old friend, but she was… aging. It was clear in her eyes, which no longer seemed timeless. They seemed to tire, as he had often noticed among mortals. She had years still, and she was still beautiful. She had come forward with a joyful cry and Legolas' anguish over her mortality quickly vanished.

But when he embraced her, it was not her aging that surprised him but the flutter of a new life. He pulled back in surprise. Arwen blushed. "Really, Legolas, it does tend to happen."

"What is wrong with Middle-Earth in this new age?" Legolas asked, aghast.

"The start of a new world, my friend. Do not be so alarmed." Aragorn said soothingly.

"And you need a change of clothing." The lady added.

"Everyone seems to be offended by my clothing." The prince murmured.

"Not the clothing," Evenstar corrected, "The smell, my lord, the smell."

"Fetch me clothes, then, if the smell is so overpowering!"

Arwen, used to Legolas' speeches, was unfazed and with an impudent smile that she reserved only for her brothers, she rang for the maid and called for fresh clothes. When the maid returned, Arwen presented the suit to the elf, who examined them. They had flowing wide sleeves and colors of red and brown.

"Well, I'll be," Legolas murmured. "How come you have Elven garments, especially for males, Arwen?"

"It is mine," Aragorn affirmed. "But it should fit you."

Legolas made a face as he held up the clothes. They were sizes too big for his slimmer frame. And that gave only one explanation. Legolas said to the Gondorian King, "You are getting fatter; these clothes are far too big!"

"Or perhaps you are far too thin."

"I am completely fine as I am." Legolas went over and poked the King's ribs most disrespectfully. "I believe I feel the beginning of a belly right there…"

Aragorn grunted in pain and swatted his friend's hand away. "This is what happens when there is no war to fight and no skirmish to go into."

"It has only been a year to the War!"

"This brings us back to our main subject; tell me of Rohan. How does she fair?"

Legolas sighed and pulled up a chair to sit on.

He was about to sit down when Arwen interrupted. "Just a moment; I will not have an elf in my chambers who is wearing clothes smelling of weather and stink!" Legolas made a face.

"All this fuss over my clothes," Legolas snapped, though he was amused. Arwen shot him another glare she only reserved for her brothers. "Fine! I am changing, I am changing!"

He left for a moment and soon returned wearing fresh clothing and soiled garments in hand. Arwen studied him critically, looking him up and down and finally resting her eyes on the frank grin on the prince's face, "Satisfied, Evenstar?"

"For now." Arwen replied curtly. "I will have to talk to your father in finding you someone to run your house, but you can now talk about Rohan for all I care." Taking Legolas' used clothes, the Queen gave them both an imperious nod and left. Legolas quirked a smile, "She-elves," he muttered under his breath before taking a chair and sitting down. "I heard that!" Arwen's voice called from the corridor. Legolas winced but wisely made no smart reply.

And so Legolas began. He told Aragorn most of the beginning and the King listened with full attention. Legolas held back much of the details, skimming over the vague information of Rohan. It was a wise move. He trusted Aragorn, but it would simply not do for one kingdom to look weaker before the other. And the Rohirrim were proud. Legolas would not belittle them.

Aragorn sighed and got up. Offering a hand to the elf, he said, "Come, walk with me."

They walked together through the marbled corridors in companionable silence. At length, Aragorn spoke, "Things had not been so easy about here."

"Arwen, for first."

When Legolas raised an eyebrow, the King ventured to explain, "She has been quiet of late. My duties keep me from spending much time with her, but I know she has been distant lately. She has never smiled as broadly as she had done at your arrival."

"Completely understandable," Legolas protested. "Her father had left for the Undying Lands soon after her wedding. Her grandmother, Lady Galadriel is gone, and Celeborn does not venture out of his beloved woods, despite the dying mellorn trees. Her brothers are nowhere to be found. I recall that they had left for some adventure to the East. She must be glad to see her kith."

"Indeed," Aragorn murmured. "Oftentimes, I wish that she had chosen immortality."

"What is done is done." Legolas scoffed. "You and I cannot change it."

"True," Aragorn replied. "And yet, there had been an idea forming in my head. You have met the Ithilien Rangers? They had come to with my request to help Rohan."

"Indeed I have met them."

"I was wondering if a group of elves shifted to Ithilien, under your leadership. It would do Arwen good if her kind was close by…" Aragorn trailed off when he saw Legolas shake his head.

"I cannot be in two places at the same time." Legolas said. "And such an idea requires thorough planning. In the coming year, I will be busy with Rohan. And also, my people are busy restoring Mirkwood to what it once was. The Galadhrim would be hesitant to leave their beloved trees, even for their Evenstar. And," Legolas added apologetically, yet firmly. "Arwen is not a wilting flower. She is strong yet. She knew what her choice was and she has taken it. Let her settle."

Aragorn sighed but silently agreed. The idea was good but only to be pursued at a later time. For now, Gondor and Rohan had to regain their strengths.

"Besides," Legolas continued. Aragorn opened the doorway and stepped aside to let the elf go into the throne room first. "I doubt anyone of us would be able to-"Whatever Legolas was going to say, Aragorn would never find out for the elf painfully collided with someone else who happened to be coming from the other side.

Both Faramir and Legolas gave a cry of pain and stumbled back.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked, alarmed. He still stood at his spot, unsure to go to the elf or to his Steward.

"Who exactly are you asking?" Faramir asked through gritted teeth, massaging his bruised front.

"My question exactly." Legolas added, straightening. The Gondorian King looked from one to the other.

"Both, I suppose." Aragorn said. Now that he was king, he soon realized the safety of staying neutral.

"No broken bones, I am fine." Faramir announced, straightening his Ranger uniform.

"No broken bones," Legolas confirmed, "But I am worried about my head."

"I have questioned your sanity, my friend, long before you have started to question it." Aragorn quipped, sarcasm dripping from his words. There was still relief evident in his voice, now that he was sure both of them were out of danger. "So the collision would not have put more damage as there is already."

"Are you calling me incapable?"

"Mad and insane," Aragorn confirmed, nodding his head solemnly.

"At least try to keep my respect in third company." Legolas protested, indicating Faramir.

"The third company should not deceived by your charm."

"Ahem," Both royals turned their heads to regard the Steward, who smiled apologetically.

"I only meant to say," Faramir said softly. "This third company has a name and is fully capable of hearing, thank you."

"Ah, yes," Aragorn said, straightening. "Legolas, I assume you have already met Faramir?"

"Aye, I have." Legolas said, nodding towards the Steward, who nodded in return.

"And Faramir, I assume you have met Legolas?"

"Aye, I have."

"I had not expected to see you here." Legolas said, speaking to Faramir. The Steward smiled.

"I had not decided on coming, for I was needed elsewhere. However, my king's command brought me back to the White City." The Steward replied.

Legolas smiled in approval. Faramir was a young and mature man. He had a naturally low and deep voice but that was not a sign of weakness. His eyes were keen and capable of reading the hearts of men. Legolas had not been able to befriend the Steward, for they had only met once or twice, where they both remained cordial. The prince had only spoken to him enough to notice there was intelligence in the Steward's piercing grey eyes. He was shrewd, but he was humble; a perfect man to have as an advisor and as a loyal subject.

"Forgive me," Faramir said. "If I had known I was to greet a guest, I would have worn much more," Faramir trailed off, looking down at his travel-stained and weather-worn clothes, "Well, better clothing, to say the least. I had come straight to the Citadel from my mission without bothering for a wash or a change."

"I am not offended, for I have leaved in the open myself." Legolas assured the Steward. The two looked at one another warmly. Already, each had high regards for the other.

"However," Legolas said, pressing his fist on his chest as a sign of mutual respect. "I must say; do not take offence of what I am about to do. I assure you that I have no wish to start a conflict or a war between my kind and yours." Studiously avoiding the puzzled looks on the faces of Aragorn and Faramir, he continued, "You should know, I had planned to do this only in the absence of Lady Arwen. I would never show any form of violence in her presence, especially in her delicate condition."

If Aragorn had a glimmer of understanding behind Legolas' words, he had no time to act upon it. The elf straightened quickly, and deftly backhanded the Gondorian King. Aragorn felt the stinging pain across his cheek as he fell, sprawled in an undignified lump over the marbled floor.

There was stunned silence before Legolas heard an unexpected sound; laughter. It came from Faramir, who went forward and grabbed his King by the shoulders, helping him up. "What have you done to the elf that has raised such ire?" he asked Aragorn. "I haven't the slightest idea." Aragorn answered, looking up at the glowering elf. There was something warm gushing from his lip. When Aragorn raised his hand to feel it, he realized that he split his lip in the onslaught.

"_You fool!" _Legolas burst out furiously. _"Are you dim-witted, or is it that Elrond had not been able to teach you nothing! Here you are, King of Gondor and you could not even have offered aid to your neighboring country! Or is it simply that you have grown corrupted in your short reign?" _Legolas spoke fast and quick in his native tongue, his words scathing. Faramir, though well-versed in the Elven Tongue, was not as fluent and barely kept up but Aragorn understood all too well. The King held up his hands in a placatory manner.

"_Peace, brother!" _Aragorn murmured, straightening. _"I know my duty is to help and serve, but if you would be so kind to follow me outside, you may realize of my own reasons of not being able to help."_

Choosing now Westron, Aragorn spoke to Faramir, "Excuse us for a while. Legolas and I have much to discuss. You and I will return to the affairs of the State shortly."

Understanding that something significant has happened, Faramir nodded and left without complaint. Aragorn eyed the elf hesitantly before he grabbed the elf by his shoulder and led him outside.

"There are things you and I need to speak of." Aragorn said as he led his friend outside the building. "Perhaps you will then understand why I asked for your help."

"You see, my country has been, and still is, facing many problems of its own."

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Happy New Year to my OTWAB readers! I meant to update this earlier, (no, honest), but there was one problem after another. Happily, updates will come sooner.

**Replies to Anon:**

Guest: Yes indeed! :D


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Aragorn's cheek and lip were still smarting as he led his friend out into the open. The guards standing by the door stood at attention as he and Legolas passed by, their black cloaks whipping in the wind.

"That was a deft hand stroke, my friend." Aragorn commented, absently rubbing his smarting cheek. "Is this how elven royalty is brought up?"

"Nay," Legolas returned. "But this is how a friend should be. You still have to explain yourself."

"Come," Aragorn gestured towards the high marble fence that surrounded the Citadel.

They stood behind the marble fence that protected them from the sheer drop below. The wind was cold, but the sun was warm upon their faces. For some time, they simply stood there, leaning on the elbows to watch the circles below. They enjoyed the companionable silence, for despite Legolas' harsh words and the tiny demonstration of his annoyance, Aragorn was not offended. Their friendship had been built over mutual trust and both knew that if one of them had to censure the other, the other must simply understand the friendship behind the action.

"It has been a difficult year for Gondor." Aragorn said, breaking the silence. "During the Siege of Minas Tirith, most of the buildings were destroyed by fire or missiles." Aragorn said, gesturing at the lower levels as he spoke. "When Rohan came for aid, most of the circles were damaged. The lower two levels were completely inaccessible. After the battle of Pelennor Fields, we had buried as all the bodies within the city along with the fallen warriors. But we had not been able to clear the debris," Aragorn said, touching the elf lightly on the shoulder and pointing down below. Legolas saw the debris that had been cleared and removed from the city. The damaged stones were piled in a heap.

"We had not cleared the debris until after my wedding and when the guests had left. That was when we started to have problems. Illnesses started to appear in the lower levels. It then rapidly spread, killing more of my people as the illnesses worked towards the higher levels."

"But the Houses of Healing have cure for all illnesses except death." Legolas protested. "Why was there no aid from them?"

"There was." Aragorn replied, his eyes sad. "But the people were too many. Many died in the past year before the city was fully purged of the illnesses from the dead. In the end, we had almost twice as many bodies, with nowhere to bury them. We were determined to remove the bodies quickly, before we have yet another spread in our hands."

"We buried the contaminated corpses at the side in the Pelennor Fields." Aragorn said, gesturing at the left. Legolas looked at where the King was pointing. His finer sight showed him the newly dug soil, where the bodies were buried. "It is like a vault of diseases." Legolas murmured. If that place was ever dug up, the results would be catastrophic…

"It was either that or I watch my people die in my city." Aragorn said bitterly. "The past year has not been kind to us."

"And Arwen was unaffected." Legolas asked, frowning. As an elf, Arwen would be unaffected to diseases and resilient to poison. But now as a mortal, she was more vulnerable. "I never let her venture past the Citadel." The King answered. "It would not do for my people to lose their queen so early."

"Indeed." Legolas said stiffly. Aragorn looked at the elf.

"You are angry with me."

"Of course I am angry with you! Have you thought so little of our friendship that you did not tell me about your country's troubles? Have you thought that I as an elf, and you as a mortal that I would no longer care for you and what you hold dear?"

"Peace!" Aragorn exclaimed, placing his hand on the elf's shoulder to lessen his ire. "Anger does not suit you, my friend."

Aragorn smiled sadly at the elf. "You ask me why I had not told you of my kingdom's issues. Legolas, you had just returned home to find your forest cleansed and the darkness of Dol Guldur receding quickly from the trees. You had just returned to meet your father after being separating for a year. I am sure Thranduil had shown much joy on seeing you again. You may have planned the future, the rebuilding of Eryn Lasgelen and its return to glory."

Legolas stared at his long-time comrade, not enjoying how closely Aragorn had defined exactly what he and his father had planned.

"Legolas, I did not wish to tear you away from your people. I had no wish to drag you into my realm when none of it was your concern. Now I know," Aragorn continued, raising a hand to silence Legolas' protest, "that if I had but sent a word, you would have come immediately. But try to understand, I cannot turn towards the elves for help in every matter. I am the king, and decisions rested upon me. I had to learn to cope on my own."

"You always coped on your own." Legolas murmured. He was looking over the fence again. There was no anger in his voice, only understanding. "You had always been independent. But Aragorn, you need to understand that the only way Middle-Earth can remove the horrors of the War is by helping one another."

"We will send what we can to Rohan." Aragorn promised.

"That is not what I meant!" Legolas said, whipping about, frustrated. "I meant a show of support. Do you think that the Elven Realms have come out of this War unscathed? Lothlórien, Imladris and Mirkwood-"

"Eryn Lasgelen." Aragorn interrupted.

"Stop acting smart." Legolas snarled. "You know what I mean. All of these Realms have faced a large amount of destruction and loss of life. But the beauty of the winning a War is that in the end, we have to help each other. That is the key to survival. Use this moment to improve relations; otherwise both Rohan and Gondor will grow distant. The next time, there is a battle in Gondor or Rohan; the other ally will not be so willing to help."

Aragorn sighed. "I know, my friend, I know. But the weight of the kingdom is hard to bear." Rubbing his face with his hands, Aragorn looked away. Then he placed his hands before him. Aragorn stared at them. "Legolas," the King said slowly, his voice sounding almost broken. "When the illnesses spread, I was in the lower circle. All around me was suffering and pain. I did what I could in healing, but lives slipped through my fingers. Even when I tried to tighten my grip," the King made his hands into fists, "My people still died. Do you know how it is? I was a healer but what was worse, I was their king! And I could do nothing but watch as one person after the next left this world." At that confession, Aragorn's fist hit the marble fence hard, as if to vent out his frustration. "I only watched, and I was so helpless."

Legolas silently took the King's hands in his. For a moment, the elf gazed down at their joined hands. Aragorn's were weathered and scarred, his prominent knuckles showing him as a warrior, the ring on his finger marking him as married man. There were tiny wrinkles, still unseen for a mortal eye but Legolas could see them, slowly making their mark on the skin. His own, on the other hand (no pun intended), were pale, glowing with life and health. They were unscarred, with no ring showing his unmarried status. His father had often teased him, threatening playfully that he would send Legolas to some mining area in order to teach him the meaning of real work. Legolas never took it seriously, but ever since he had entered the Mannish Realms, he wondered; what was it like to age? What was it like, knowing that death will come one day?

"You should know as well as any other that you are not responsible for every ill turn that happens in life." Legolas said quietly. "Let it go, Aragorn. That is not worth your time. Mourn for those whom you have lost but with each passing day, rebuild where you can. Let others live on with hope."

Legolas gestured below as proof for his words, where the circles were thriving with people. They could hear echoes of laughter coming up by the wind.

"_You have grown wise, my friend."_

"_Tell that to my father. He still believes I am incapable of eating by myself."_

Aragorn chuckled before they fell into a comfortable silence.

"What of Faramir?" Legolas asked, breaking it. "I was half-expecting to see him with the White Lady, once I learned of her presence in Edoras."

"Faramir originally did plan to go with Lady Éowyn." Aragorn explained. "But Éowyn, knowing her brother's temperament, suggested that it would be wiser if only she went for Edoras. Faramir may be Éomer's brother by marriage, but they are still new friends. Éowyn did not wish to bring Faramir or Éomer into any unnecessary trouble. Éomer has shown little patience these days, as you may have seen for yourself." Aragorn said, looking at Legolas, who nodded in agreement. "We were expecting Éowyn's return but a messenger from Rohan came instead, announcing Éowyn's new arrival. After that, Faramir firmly told Éowyn to remain in Edoras, fearing for her safety and the child's. Also, certain problems and upraising had occurred near the borderline separating Gondor from Mordor, where the outlawed men now reside. I needed Faramir on the front lines, leading my men into the charge."

"And you said that there were no skirmishes." Legolas teased, grinning suddenly as he mercilessly poked Aragorn's belly once more. The Gondorian King shot the elf a long-suffering look. "You know, Legolas, one day… one day…"

"Continue with your report first." Legolas interrupted, laughing as he raised a hand for silence. "I will listen to your threats later."

"Regardless," Aragorn continued, glaring pointedly at the elf. He placed his hand on the elf's shoulder and led him on the marbled walkway back inside. "My people are doing considerably well under our hard circumstances. Homes are being rebuilt. Construction is well under way here in Minas Tirith and as well as along the coastline, where the Corsairs of Umbar had caused a great deal of chaos."

"We are not helpless." Aragorn added. "We have food aplenty and my men are strong and ready for any battle, if we face any danger from the East. The scattered orcs have fled and those who have stayed are almost eliminated. And we have enough men to help rebuild the destroyed cities."

"That is good news." Legolas said, glancing back at the direction of Mordor before entering the building of the Citadel. Aragorn quickly led him to the right, which opened into the corridors for the King's Study and various council rooms. The King opened up a door, offering the elf to enter first.

Faramir looked up from the book he had been reading.

"Ah, you are here. I was beginning to worry that something was amiss."

"All is well, my loyal friend." Aragorn said, closing the door behind him. "Forgive me; I seem to have made you wait for a long time."

"It is of no consequence." Faramir assured them quietly, getting up and placing the book back on the shelf.

Legolas regarded the Steward. Faramir seemed to have taken a wash, but his clothes were unchanged. The elf assumed that, considering Faramir's impeccable manners, he did not leave the Study for fear Aragorn and Legolas would arrive in his absence.

"Well, what does Rohan need of us, Ambassador Legolas?" Aragorn asked, chuckling at the name he had given the elf. Legolas winced. First he had been called nanny, now this.

"Well what can you spare, oh Wild King?" Legolas asked back, keeping his voice as polite as Aragorn's had been. Aragorn winced, remembering the event that he made him earn such a name. Behind him, Faramir gave a treacherous snort of laughter.

Aragorn's eyes glinted in mischief. "Well, I could lend you some of my advisors-"

"Absolutely not," Faramir said firmly. Legolas looked at the Steward, startled. The Ithilien Ranger smiled apologetically. "My apologies, Master Elf, for I meant no offence. Gondor will help where she can but trust me; you will find our Gondorian advisors tedious. They will talk in circles for hours on end without reaching a reasonable conclusion. The only reason my liege-lord," Faramir glared at his King, who shrugged and grinned in defeat, "wants you to have the advisors is so that he can get rid of them himself."

"I knew you were not a good friend." Legolas said, whipping about and glaring at the King. Aragorn raised his hands in placatory manner (or as a feeble defense if he was attacked again).

"Then why did you befriend me?"

"That was a mistake on my part, which I will make sure not to repeat again. Come, Lord Faramir! Since your king is useless to call for advice." Legolas ignored the squawk of protest from Aragorn. "Tell me, what would you suggest?"

"Open trade between Gondor and Rohan." The Steward said. "That should satisfy us as well as Rohan. For you see, Rohan needs grain and we need money. We have the grain and Rohan-"

Legolas did not hear the rest. Rohan did not have the money, or the grain. But as Fion had said, problems have a way of solving out themselves.

"My thoughts exactly," Legolas said aloud. Then turning to Aragorn, the elf grinned and said, "See, Aragorn? What did you do to deserve such a willing man?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Aragorn said. He noted Faramir's flush and not wanting to cause further discomfort for the Steward, he quickly added, "But do try not to compliment him in his presence, I would like him in clear awe and respect of me."

"Respect is earned, not bought, my liege." Faramir replied.

"Legolas, your impudent behavior seems to be rubbing off on him."

"The person whom you are referring to is standing right here, Sire." Faramir protested, clearly feeling out of the element here.

"If you two are done playing," Legolas said, raising a brow. "I am in a hurry and we have things to discuss."

Legolas turned towards Faramir and asked, "And do you know someone who could establish the end of our trade here in Gondor, or Dol Amroth to be more precise?"

"I do. In fact, you could trust her. She is honest and straightforward."

"She?" Legolas asked, noting the gender.

"My cousin, Lady Lothíriel of Dol Amroth," Faramir said. He further explained, "She is a noblewoman, I agree, and she is no fighter but Lothíriel has handled the administration ever since she was nineteen. It would not be a problem to her."

"I have no question in her abilities but such a large trade-"

"Will not be a problem to her." Faramir finished. "She was responsible of providing the armies from Dol Amroth and the surrounding fiefs and had also brought aid more than once to my Rangers. She is no stranger when it comes to trade, that I assure you. She will make important negotiations without as much as a falter in her words. And do not be fooled with her youth, she is very resourceful and thinks in the same pattern as I do."

"You have high regards for her," Legolas said. "And I have high regards for you, so I will respect whoever you ask me to respect. "I agree with this idea."

"Now we have the negotiator, we have the possible city for trade, now we need to know the supplies we need, the routes and the price for it all." Legolas said.

"Well, we will certainly not gain anything by simply talking." Aragorn said, bending down to grab a few recent reports from Dol Amroth. "Faramir can go through the reports and see what we have and what we can spare. He is more familiar with the roads of Gondor than I am." Faramir took the offered reports with a nod and a smile. "Legolas, write down what Rohan needs. And as for myself, I need to check the prices for it all. Since this will be a great trade, we will keep the prices low. And we will need men to guard the caravans. The bandits and outlaws have become far too bold for my liking."

Legolas and Faramir nodded and went to the empty desks, having spare parchments, inks, quills and maps.

Legolas was surprised to find out that Faramir was more easy-going than the most of the nobles he had met last year during his stay in Minas Tirith. He was not prude, and he was not judgmental. Legolas remembered how he had to be aware of every single thing he did for fear of how the Gondorian nobles would think. Faramir did not bother one bit.

The Steward was bent over the table, working out possible routes leading from Gondor straight into Rohan. They had included major cities as stops for respite for the travelling caravans. Legolas was the one who had worked out the logic. "We want it to remain official." He had explained. "That way, it would discourage most of the bandits, if not all, from looting them."

Legolas had written what Rohan needs, while Aragorn estimated the price for all of it. Legolas saw the number, and was glad that his face was schooled to a mask of indifference. It would not do to show that Rohan did not have that kind of money.

"All of this is still hypothetical." Faramir remarked finally as he studied the marked routes on the map as well the supplies that Rohan needed. "We still have to discuss this with Lothíriel."

"And Rohan needs to contact her as well." Aragorn added, turning towards Legolas.

"It will be done." Legolas had murmured in reply.

Faramir sighed and then rolled up the map that had the marked routes and handed it to the elf. "You might want to take this back to Éomer. I would imagine he would like to know what has been planned."

"Do you not need a map showing the possible routes for Lady Lothíriel?" Legolas asked, but Faramir shook his head and held up another map. "I have already marked another map for the routes to take to my cousin." The Ranger explained. "The list of the supplies has been copied as well for her."

Aragorn handed one copy bearing the price and the list of supplies to Legolas and the other copy to Faramir. "Well, that is taken care of." Aragorn commented. Faramir, who stood with the same discreetly pleasant expression, could not fool his king and Aragorn read the weariness in the Steward's eyes. "Now go and take care of your rest. You have more than just earned it."

"I thank you but I am fine enough to join dinner."

"Nay, you are not." Aragorn said firmly. "I will not have a good soldier take his own needs lightly. Go and rest, Faramir. You need it."

"So my king commands me, so shall I do." Faramir said, laughing lightly. He gave an extravagant bow to his king and excused himself from the Study.

"He is a good man," Legolas said once the Steward has left.

"He is," Aragorn said, shifting his papers and preparing his table for the next time he came to work. "Though I am surprised why he is so cordial today. Do not mistake me, Faramir is very eloquent in words but this is the first time in a year that he has spoken without throwing a witty remark over my kingly duties-"

"You have me here," Legolas reminded him.

"Ah yes. In fact, I am surprised at you as well. You were also very cordial in your speech."

"I think that Steward intimidates me."

"Bah!"

"Nay, really he does." Legolas said, laughing. "Éomer and Faramir have very different influence on me. In Éomer's presence, I am more tempted to argue with him but Faramir's presence makes me check my tongue!"

"I will tell your father that I have finally found someone who would possibly be resistant to your charms."

"Ha! Please do not mock me! My father personally chose twelve elves as my escort whom he thought would be resilient to my charms and do you know what they did? As soon as we entered Edoras, each of them was ready to take part in my mischiefs." Legolas stopped, realizing that he spoke too much.

"Mischiefs?" Aragorn asked, looking up at the elf. "What mischiefs?"

"Nothing," Legolas said nonchalantly. "Come Aragorn we must hurry to get ready in time for dinner."

"Absolutely not! Dinner can wait! You, on the other hand, cannot. Tell me! What mischiefs?"

"It was nothing."

"It was everything!" Aragorn snarled. "Sit down, Legolas! You are not leaving this room until you tell me what kind of havoc you were causing in Rohan's lands!"

"Well, it was not that-"

"Legolas!"

"Fine!" the elf snapped. "Well, you should pull up a chair. This will take some time."

Legolas told Aragorn everything. He had nothing to hide really. Besides, he enjoyed Aragorn's look of disbelief.

"You and your antics," Aragorn groaned aloud once Legolas was done. "Poor Éomer! I remember the time when you used the drinking trick on me. There was nothing more terrible! Elladan and Elrohir were laughing for days and Erestor still recounts the tale with a disturbing satisfaction. And why did you throw him in the bath for?"

"I had to wake him up somehow."

"You could have hit him to wake him up."

"I happen to enjoy the fact that my limbs are intact and not… separated from my body."

"Aye, there is that." Aragorn conceded. "But I would have thought that Fion would have already told you not to cause mischief."

"He did." Legolas said smoothly. "He said that I cannot cause mischief in the horse-lord's lands. There was nothing mentioned of the horse-lord himself!"

"I hate it when you manipulate words like that." Aragorn muttered under his breath.

"It is something I learned from my father."

Aragorn shuddered. Thranduil was the best when it came to manipulation. Legolas was like his father in more ways than one.

"Well, I hope you learn some Rohirric sense of honor. There is no manipulation tactics in the country."

Legolas smirked, remembering Éothain's role in getting Éomer drunk. "That is because you do not know much of them than you think."

Aragorn chose not to question the elf. His head was already aching as it is when he heard of Legolas' antics.

"So I take it that you fully approve of my Steward?" Aragorn asked, changing the subject.

"I do. You can trust him if that is what you are asking." Legolas answered. Aragorn smiled, relieved. This did not mean that he had no trust in Faramir, but he knew Legolas' ability in guessing people's intentions and the prince's opinion meant more to the Gondorian King than he would ever admit.

"Although I have to admit," Legolas added, "he is too serious. That man could do with a little excitement." The elf rubbed his hands together as if he was planning something.

"You will do nothing to him." Aragorn said sternly. Legolas quickly assumed a hurt look.

"Why do you think I would do something?"

"Really, Legolas! I know you well enough to recognize your behavior. You will not corrupt my poor Steward!"

"Corrupt!" Legolas said, sounding disgusted. "I never corrupted anyone."

"Look what you did to Fion! That was good, serious elf and now he is playing pranks beside you. And what about your elven escort?"

"Do you actually think I would alter the personalities of the people around men?" Legolas said, his voice taking a thunderous edge similar to his father's. Aragorn was unfazed.

"Yes!"

Legolas grinned suddenly. "Good. It means you do know me as well as you claim. Come, we really should be getting ready for dinner. As it is still three to four hours away, I think I will take some rest." The elf got up his seat and made for the door, an amused Aragorn following close behind.

"I thought elves do not need to rest."

"Impudent mortal."

oOo

Dinner was an enjoyable affair. He dined with Arwen and Aragorn. Faramir, sensing the elf's friendship with the King and Queen, wanted to withdraw and eat with the soldiers in their mess but none of them would hear of it.

"For pity's sake, I am only meeting them after a year." Legolas had said, taking the Steward by the shoulders and leading him to the dinner table. "Come! The more, the merrier!"

So Faramir joined them. They ate in silence in the beginning, unsure where to start. That was until Arwen started a topic on the food and soon the men and the elf joined in, recounting wild tales of their time in the Wild, where food was scarce and they ate what they had.

"My former mentor had taken a liking for a brew called coffee once." Legolas said once, shaking his head. "I wanted to try it but Fion said that I am already too alert and active as it is. Apparently, the brew has some effects and causes wakefulness. He did not want me running amok, or so he had said." There was a quiet laughter at that one. Faramir, though a reserved man, slowly started to take a liking for the elf. The Steward not thought much of Legolas aside from the fact that the latter was an experienced warrior and lethal with his knives and bow.

Arwen only smiled, letting the topics slip from one to another until it went to the typical sort that males chat over; weaponry. It shifted more and Arwen soon lost track of what they were speaking of. So she sat, simply enjoying the company.

Legolas, on the other hand, strangely felt a little empty. He missed (what was the matter with him?) the loud parties of the Rohirrim, where there was laughter and chatter. But here in the cold marble halls with dimly lit candles, the air felt stifling with only the King, the Queen, Steward and Prince sitting at the large, lonely table.

Once the dinner was over, Aragorn suggested retreating to one of the studies for a late-night talk before heading for bed. Faramir and Legolas agreed but when Legolas was getting up from his seat, Arwen stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

"It seems, my good King," Arwen said to her husband. "That you plan to spend the entire elf's stay in his company. However, I claim some time with the elf tonight, and you will have to be content with it."

Aragorn chuckled. "If I have a happy wife, I will live a happy life." The King said, causing an eruption of laughter from both Legolas and Faramir. The King turned towards the elf. "Forgive me, Legolas. This matter is out of my hands!"

"Nothing seems to remain in your hands, Elessar." Legolas said; sarcasm was clear in his voice. "I must say, I am beginning to question your capability of ruling over such a vast kingdom. I hope he is not a disappointment," Legolas said, the last line being spoken to Faramir. "I do not know how you are able to bear him, my good Steward!"

Faramir smiled indulgently. He had realized Legolas' attempts to include the Ranger into the conversation and he personally admitted that his regard for the elf was starting to grow greater due to his easy-going manner.

"He is the only king we have, Master Elf."

"See, Legolas!" Aragorn said. "Understand what he is trying to say!"

"Or what he is not trying to say." Legolas retorted. Aragorn laughed at what the elf was implying. Arwen had had enough. Gesturing at Legolas to get up, Arwen also rose from her seat.

"Excuse us, my lords, there is much for Legolas and I to discuss." With all the grace the Queen possessed, she said, "Come along, Legolas. Do not dawdle."

Without waiting for the elf to follow, she left through one of the doors.

Waving a hand of farewell at the King and the Steward, Legolas quickly caught up with the Queen. As he came close, the elf hissed, "I will have you know, Evenstar, that just because you can order your husband about does not mean you can do the same to me!"

"And look who it is who is following me?" Arwen said, raising an elegant brow.

Legolas grinned and decided not to reply. This was a precious meeting, and he wanted to enjoy it, not waste it on his regular squabbles.

oOo

"_So tell me," _Arwen said once they had entered her chambers. She led Legolas to her balcony and gestured him to sit on one of the chairs. When he did, she offered him a drink. _"How are our Elven Realms?"_

"_As well as they could be." _Legolas answered, watching the Queen sit down on the opposite chair, her light purple dress softly rustling in the movement. Arwen raised an eyebrow at the vague description.

"_Surely you could do better than that. Tell me everything."_

"_Everything?" _Legolas said, chuckling. _"I see you have not changed; you have lost none of your inquisitiveness."_

"_Was I supposed to change after becoming Queen?" _Arwen asked, genuinely puzzled. Legolas took a sip before answering.

"_Nay," _Legolas responded simply. _"So what do you want to know? Nay, do not answer that," _Legolas said, laughing when the Queen opened her mouth to speak. _" I will tell you everything."_

Setting down his goblet, Legolas ventured into the tales of his forest from the time he had returned up to the time he had left. Arwen listened in interest, enjoying the telling. Legolas used his hands, explaining his father's great plans for Eryn Lasgelen. She listened with great interest, and if her heart would admit it, with a little bit of longing.

Legolas noticed the wistful look on Arwen's face as he continued to talk. There was something weighing heavily on her heart. Legolas suspected that was partially the reason why she had brought him here. Aragorn may be her husband, but Legolas had been a close friend for an entire age. He knew Arwen well. And, privately, he was impressed. The Queen knew full well that Aragorn had felt somewhat guilty in Arwen's current loneliness. So Legolas' arrival proved to be a blessing for her. There was someone to talk to.

And yet, Legolas seemed changed from now. It was not only sea-longing that added to the elf's outward appearance, but there was an air of command about Legolas that even he himself was not aware of.

Soon, Arwen's thoughts shifted away from what Legolas was saying. The prince noticed the change and his voice trailed away.

"_Why do you not tell me what is troubling you, youngling?" _Legolas asked gently. _"Perhaps I could be of service."_

Arwen's eyes filled with tears at the gentle voice. It had been so long since she had seen her own kind. It had been merely a year, it is true but she soon realized how hard it was becoming for her to settle.

Not wanting to look weak, the Queen quickly stood and made for the balcony, turning her back towards the prince. But Legolas was just as stubborn. He stood up and walked to her.

"_Come now, tell me what troubles you. I am sure Aragorn will be able to help." _Legolas said, rubbing her shoulder with an affection similar to that an uncle would have for his niece.

"_My brothers." _Arwen whispered.

Slowly, Legolas' heart sank. He should have known. The Queen sobbed and leaned against Legolas' shoulder. Inside, the Elven prince's heart was gnawing with guilt. He closed his eyes and allowed her to cry.

oOo

_Set in the first year after the War of the Ring._

_Mirkwood._

"_Are you out of your mind?" Legolas said furiously, quickly re-sheathing his twin knives._

_The two hooded figures that had startled him re-sheathed their swords._

"_Our apologies, Prince Legolas. We did not mean to startle you."_

_Legolas waved a careless hand. "That is of no consequence. What are you two doing here anyway? And what do you two want?"_

_Elrohir and Elladan both took off their hoods, their coal-black locks tumbling down their shoulders._

_Elrohir smiled and asked, "Why do you think we want anything?"_

"_You said 'Prince Legolas'." Legolas explained dryly. "That usually means that you want something from me."_

_The twin smiles faded from their faces. "Aye, we do. It is a favor that we want from you."_

_Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Go on."_

"_We want someone to know that we are leaving."_

"_Leaving?" Legolas repeated in disbelief. "Leaving for where?"_

"_We cannot say." Elladan put in. "But we will return, that we assure you."_

"_We will let our people think we have left for the East," Elrohir added. "But that is not where we intend to go."_

"_We- ah-," Elladan stammered, shifting a little. "We only wanted someone to know."_

_Legolas stared at one twin to the other. And to think he thought these two were adorable when they were babies! "And who exactly came up with this foolish idea?"_

"_Both of us did." Elladan said, looking confused. "Why?"_

"_So that I could fetch a switch and give you a proper hiding!" Legolas snarled. "Who taught you to follow your impulses like that?"_

"_You did." The two chorused. Deciding this approach was not working, Legolas took another one._

"_And what of your sister?" Legolas demanded. "Do you intend to leave her here? Abandon her?"_

_The twins winced at the harsh words. "We are not abandoning her." The twins protested. "Please, Legolas. This is something we just have to do."_

_The Elven Prince sighed wearily. "When do you plan to return?"_

_Elrohir and Elladan looked relieved. Maybe Legolas will let them go after all and not drag them back to Imladris._

"_It may take two years at the most."_

"_You had better return after two years then."_

"_We promise." Elrohir said. But Elladan looked at the older elf in disbelief._

"_So you are just letting us go?" Elladan asked warily._

_Legolas shrugged. "You are old enough to make your decisions and not die at the result of them. You can go. But mark my words, this had better not cause grief to Evenstar."_

"_It may," Elrohir said quietly. "We daren't tell her, for she may fear for us in this quest of ours."_

"_You did not even ask us if what we are going to do is dangerous." Elladan said, who still couldn't believe that Legolas was letting them go._

_Legolas sighed. He regarded the two younger elves before him. They may be an age old, but they were both still very young. He wondered idly if the twins knew how their grey eyes seemed to be burning with an inner fire, just as it used to in the Noldorin folk of the past._

"_You have done many dangerous things." Legolas said quietly. "Some of which I was not approving of. But I am neither your father or of close kin. Do as you like but promise me that this will be the last of your adventures. For too long have you both acted out of revenge. 'tis time for the both of you to let go of the past and enjoy the future. Go," Legolas added. " Go with my blessing. I trust you enough to know that neither of you will do anything foolish."_

"_Promise us you will not tell anyone, especially Arwen and Aragorn, about our meeting." Elladan insisted. "We would have told them, but they deserve their newly found happiness."_

"_I will not, you have my word."_

_Satisfied, the twins gave him a look of gratitude and pulled up their hoods._

_As they were leaving, Elrohir turned back and said, "And Legolas. This is not revenge we are set out to do. We simply want a healing… for someone else."_

"_I have already guessed." Legolas replied softly. "Now go, before my patrol finds you!"_

_The last thing Legolas had seen were the twins, disappearing into the darkness of the forest._

oOo

_Set in the second year after the War of the Ring, _

_Minas Tirith._

Legolas held Arwen as she cried. She was afraid for her brothers. This was not the first time the twins had gone out into the wild but it was the first time they had left without warning.

"_They will be alright, little one." _Legolas murmured. _"And they will come back to you."_

Arwen pulled back and looked up, wiping away her tears as she did so.

"_You think so?"_

"_I know so."_

Arwen smiled.

**~S~**

**Author's Note: **(Warning: It is long but explanations are important)

-I wrote this story a very long time ago, and back then I did not possess the maturity or the experience of writing as I do now. Therefore, till chapter 14, all the writing will remain the same as they were when I first wrote them. I would have liked to correct them to my satisfaction, but time is no longer a friend in my life.

-My stories are now available in the form of a list in chronological order.

**On Legolas' Age: **This is much different than the one normally pursued in ffn. I know most people think that Legolas was younger but I never thought so. Legolas mentioned Fangorn forest was so old that he almost felt young again. Digging into history, Fangorn forest appeared near the end of the First Age. In my stories, Legolas is born in the beginning of Second Age. I argue his light-hearted style and cheerful manner to be similar to Glorfindel; Glorfindel was merry, but he was also old, and renown.


End file.
